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DECORATIONS BY 
FRANK VERBECK 



1U York • 1912 • McbrlJe. Narf &C 



ompeaiy 



Copyright, 1912, by 
McBride, Nast & Co. 




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Published, March, 1912 






i 



>» r\\ « i> i n l P P 



TO MY 
GARDEN PARTNER 



PREFACE 

Several of the chapters in this book have appeared, 
essentially in their present form, in The Craftsman, 
The Ladies 9 World, Suburban Life and House and 
Garden. To the editors of these magazines the au- 
thor's thanks are due for permission to use this ma- 
terial again. 




CONTENTS 



PAGE 

Introduction 1 

The First Year 7 

Annuals 15 

Biennials and Perennials 29 

Lilies, Iris and Peonies 46 

Roses -.- 57 

Other Roses 73 

Bulbs . 85 

The Wild Flowers . 95 

Shrubs and Vines 106 

The Hotbed and Transplanting ........ 115 

The Transient Eden 124 

Garden Furniture 130 

The Garden of Lure 136 

The Garden in Winter 142 

Care of the Garden Birds 150 

What My Garden Means to Me 160 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS 




Perhaps I plagiarized a bit from the Japanese in design- 
ing my arches Frontispiece 

FACING 
PAGE 

Blossoms which lure to the garden birds I would never 

otherwise see 12 

Clematis 13 

Nothing is so absolutely entrancing as a clump of nicotiana 

in the moon glow 26 

Salpiglossis 27 

The Canterbury Bells add a delicacy and poetry to every 

bed in which they chime 42 

Hardy chrysanthemums 43 

The most decorative form in all the flower world ... 58 

German iris 59 

" The horse-bitten rose " .74 

Maman Cochet roses 75 

Tall single tulips and the eccentric parrots 106 

Narcissus 107 

In its ghost stage the dandelion reaches the spiritual . .114 

Sedge 115 



THE ILLUSTRATIONS— continued 

FACING 
PAGE 

Arch and trellis are painted a soft gray green . . . .130 

Sweet peas 131 

We transplant our Shirley poppies and thereby have them 

just where we want them 146 

Shirley poppies 147 

An annual hollyhock 154 

Coboea scandens 155 

A bench along Dutch lines .160 

Lady Gay roses about the sundial 161 

The public bath where members of the orchestra bathe and 

drink 170 

A buccaneer butterfly 171 

A brook breaking ice barriers in spring 180 

A bluejay 181 

The poor English sparrow does not deserve the continuous 

persecution that he suffers under 188 

The insatiable robin 189 

The guardian of the garden 202 

Pan 203 




Introduction 




ion 



rT^HERE are some phrases which carry magic in 
•*- their sound, a magic which cannot be explained 
by mere logic, and the greatest of these phrases is, 
" Let's make a garden." It has a " Merry Christ- 
mas," " Hurrah for the Fourth of July " tinkle of joy. 

The instinct to mingle with the soil evidences itself 
in the mud pie stage of childhood; as we grow older 
we merely make many more, and much more beauti- 
ful mud pies with frosting of perfumed color, and 
call it Garden. 

No one ever entirely grows up who lives in a gar- 
den. I feel sure almost all gardeners still believe 
in Santa Claus ; and as for fairies, was it not in 
Kensington Gardens that Mr. Barrie discovered all 
the wonderful facts about Peter Pan? Perhaps it is 
the help of the Little People that makes gardening 
so easy for mortals. 

I know many professionals try to scare one with all 
1 



sorts of bugaboo theories of the difficulties of flower 
culture; but to refute this, we only have to take a 
drive through the outlying districts of the town where 
the workmen and washerwomen — the so-called hum- 
bler citizens — live, and the prodigality of bloom sur- 
rounding each busy doorstep will soon show us what 
wealth even the supposed poor may own, without 
adding extra burden to their tired backs. 

We have to learn to cook, to sew, to paint, to 
write, but there is scarcely the littlest child who does 
not naturally grasp a hoe, and use it as if he were 
born a graduate in the science. This is probably 
an inherited instinct, for all of us are descended from 
some original tiller of the soil. It is the oldest pro- 
fession in the world. 

As Plutarch says, " There is no exercise nor oc- 
cupation which so certainly bringeth a man to love 
and desire quietness as doth husbandry and till- 
age." 

In the springtime the sap of enthusiasm and new 
life begins to stir in mortals just as it does in trees; 
this fact, noted by the Romans, was expressed in the 
name given by them to the first spring month, which 
they called A prills, " because then is the chief est 
force and strength." June (from juniores, mean- 



19's Mak a loftcr CarJen 

ing young men) was so called because it was as the 
youth of the year. 

As far back as the 8th century, B. C, there lived 
one Hesiodus who was a poet, and being one, his 
thoughts derived their inspiration and sustenance 
from the earth. So great an authority did he be- 
come on flowers, on all growing things, the influence 
of the moon on plants, and lucky and unlucky days 
for sowing, that he constantly spoke in proverbs con- 
cerning these things. One can easily fancy all 
friends pressing Hesiodus to put his thoughts into 
enduring form. This he eventually did, becoming 
the father of all garden books, and the author of a 
volume entitled " Works and Days," which con- 
tained practical maxims and directions for hus- 
bandry in all its phases. Nearly three thousand 
years have passed since that old book was written, 
yet to-day the subject is still as fresh and inexhausti- 
ble as the spring itself. 

Even the seed catalogues come absolutely new to 
the mind each season. I shall never forget the day 
in my childhood when I discovered the first floral cata- 
logue. It was an epoch. It opened the gate to the 
land of heart's desire, the vineyard of dreams. 

Catalogues haven't changed much since my child- 
3 



hood; I should hate to think they could. I've read 
every description, every promise, thousands of times, 
yet never has my imagination felt jaded, never have 
I failed to experience the old-new thrill. In all the 
world's literary classics, none contain for me the in- 
exhaustible lure, the enchantment, the dream material, 
to be found in the seed catalogue. 

The making of a garden is much like the forma- 
tion of character — the loveliest mature characters 
are often the result of many early mistakes. But the 
very fact that the garden is a matter of growth 
makes it worth while, and there is no art in which 
there are such compensations in the primary grade. 
If you have brought one flower to perfection you 
have not failed. When a day has been hard indoors 
and full of defeat, a walk through the garden dis- 
pels all the mists of gloom. It is the consolation 
of flowers which is the real tie between them and 
mankind. And there is never strife among the 
blossoms; they exhale peace as they breathe per- 
fume. 

The only time a garden is disappointing is when 
we are taking strangers through it, and I think that 
is perhaps because flowers are so like love. It is 
when you walk alone, or with someone dear to you, 

4 



among your flower-children, that they tell you all 
their secrets of joy. 

I sometimes wonder just when I am happiest in 
the garden. Is it when I am working with garden 
tool in spring, my inner vision abloom with dreams 
of future loveliness, made possible by my labor; or 
is it when I later on go forth in the early summer 
mornings with scissors and basket, gathering hun- 
dreds of roses, and great golden bunches of double 
sunflowers, and blue bouquets of cornflower and lark- 
spur? Then again I think it is most restful when 
I walk about after mealtime, stooping to inquire 
about the health of some frail plant, hunting ex- 
pected buds in another, gathering a few ripening seeds 
here and there, putting a rose branch in place, and 
then lingering and looking and gloating over the 
beauty of everything. Again I seem happiest when, 
the day's work done, I lie in a hammock in the gloam- 
ing shadows of the pines, enjoying the sunset glint- 
ing through stencilled leaf form and reflected in dis- 
tant flower groups, while blackbirds, gathered in the 
boughs overhead, give that strange cry which thrills 
the imagination with its wildness, breaking the 
shackles of domesticated thought. 

But when the moon comes over the eastern turrets 
5 



IS's Make * E>*er (SwJen 

of cedars, and I sit at the threshold of my rose gar- 
den silently with one to whom words are unnecessary, 
my eyes resting now on the garden of stars above, 
now on the rose stars below, then indeed the garden 
brings a brooding sense of completeness, content and 
blessing — and I ask no more of life. 

I have never resented being told I was made out 
of dust, which really means soil, for to have the same 
origin as the flowers and trees is a very fine thing 
indeed, and makes us cousins to the violet and sisters 
of the oak. 

The flowers give us a truer sense of values ; we 
do not envy the dwellers in the money-mart; we have 
a wealth which pays its hourly dividends in beauty 
and happiness, and to add to our wealth we do not 
need to rob or hurt any other fellow mortal. We 
do not desire extraneous excitement, for a garden ban- 
ishes boredom ; no hour is empty, no day is futile. 

Each year that passes brings another spring in 
which to grow young, another fall in which to harvest 
our riper dreams. 



The IVstte 



e^r — ' 




^r— r 



/^NCE upon a time two people, who were very 
^^ world-fagged, came to their senses and realized 
that the cure for their mind sickness lay beyond the 
clank of business chains, the sight of sky-scrapers 
and the whir of elevated trains. 

Their apparent quarrel with life was really only 
hunger for the song of wild birds, the nearness of 
great fields of pasture, the friendship of hills, the 
sight of a brook breaking ice barriers in spring, 
the artillery of forest limbs snapping in icy grip, the 
lowing of cattle at eventide, the elbow tpuch with 
simple, kindly folk, and above all to own a slice of 
this great birthday cake of earth. 

When you buy a piece of land, remember = — you 
own all above it; you own that far reach of ether 
in which the stars drift over your land, the moon as 
it hangs above your trees, the sun as it passes 

9 



through your sky-claim ; and best of all you possess 
all the dreams which lie between you and infinity. 

And you own down, down, down to the centre of 
the earth's axis, and this is why owning land gives 
one such a sense of anchorage and solidity. 

When we came to our senses (for my humbler half 
and I are the people of whom I spoke so mysteri- 
ously in my opening sentence) we sought the coun- 
try and became the proud possessors of a slice of 
land and a real home. On our original plot — be- 
fore we bought the adjoining two acres of wilder- 
ness — there stood two apple trees, three peaches, 
two cherries, white and purple lilacs, a deutzia, and 
a flowering almond, — nothing else. Now, after a 
few years, to tell all our tree and flower possessions 
would necessitate nine volumes of very fine print, 
and then I'd have to leave out all the intangible 
things we have come to own, things which have no 
name but"* which make one terribly happy in the 
private possession thereof. 

The first autumn we spent so much time in con- 
gratulating each other on our emancipation from the 
city, marveling at the sunsets, rediscovering the 
night sky, that we were really too stunned by 
the seventy and seven wonders of the world revealed 

10 



each day to think about gardening. So it was not 
until we had had a whole winter in which to catch 
our breath, that we even discussed flowers. When 
I look back on that time I find we really didn't know 
the A, B, C's of gardening (though we both thought 
ourselves very wise), and that is why we've had such 
a joyful, growing time of it, blundering along, learn- 
ing bit by bit through a hundred mistakes ; and 
even after all these years we know there are equally 
many surprises ahead and that six years hence, to- 
day will be called blind and ignorant. 

When the thought of garden dawned we began 
very modestly, thinking of attempting only the eas- 
iest, simplest things. When we pored over the cata- 
logues, we paused only at the familiar names and 
the ones we could pronounce; we both shied dread- 
fully at botanical titles. 

Then in our spring rambles of discovery we came 
across many deserted farms and gaunt, ghostly 
houses with weed choked gardens. With fine moral 
scruples we rescued many plants which would other- 
wise have died of neglect, pining for human love. 
Of course some people might call this procedure hard 
names, but it depends wholly on the point of view. 
I'm sure it's a very fine kind of missionary work to 

11 



relieve an old forgotten hollyhock of its poor little 
children who are being choked to death by weeds and 
haven't a chance in the world. Then, too, a scraggly 
old lilac will be very grateful if you help yourself 
to the dozens of suckers which are needlessly drain- 
ing its health. 

It was by means of such salvage that we started 
a lilac hedge and were blessed by a row of blooming 
hollyhocks from the piazza to the road, the summer 
after their rescue. 

There is no shorter route to country neighbors' 
hearts than a love of flowers. Country people are 
not specialists, carefully guarding rare flower treas- 
ures ; they are, on the contrary, big-hearted owners 
of nice old-fashioned plants which they got through 
earlier neighbors' giving, and which they in turn 
pass on to flower-loving newcomers. 

So it happened I soon found each call from a 
neighbor meant the enriching of our garden by iris, 
rockets or hardy phlox clumps, while a return call 
meant being the recipient of dozens of slips and 
roots. I never before found it so easy and pleasant 
to remember my social duties. 

The really permanent things which found place 
in our garden the first spring were therefore gotten 

12 




• 1 1 w 

BLOSSOMS WHICH LURE TO THE GARDEN 
BIRDS I WOULD NEVER OTHERWISE SEE 



either by loot or by gift; the remaining plants were 
annuals, and wild things borrowed from fields, woods 
and swamps. 

For the sake of other beginners who want to do 
the thing gradually and make a modest beginning 
in gardening, I can't do better than tell them of our 
annuals that first season, and how much beauty we 
surrounded ourselves with by sowing only the best- 
known seed. 

To start with, we found an old chicken yard on 
the place; and as we couldn't undertake chickens 
we removed the chicken houses and stored the lum- 
ber for the making of toolhouse and hotbed the fol- 
lowing spring, reserving one long stretch of the 
chicken wire for the support of sweet peas. 

The rich soil of the former fowl yard made an 
ideal place to start our seedbeds, and here we sowed 
in May, blue ageratum, Marguerite carnations, cos- 
mos, asters, marigolds, mignonette and pansies. We 
planted at each column of the front porch wild 
clematis found in a brush tangle near a brookside. 
The clematis is a long-legged vine which remains as 
bare about the knees as a Highlander, so we planted 
nasturtiums to cover the lower part of these vines ; 
and sweet alyssum plants were invited to do the same 

13 



IS's Make * IUW <S*Jen 

favor for the nasturtiums, as they grew tall and 
given to yellow leaves about the feet. 

From the porch to the road the aforesaid holly- 
hocks were permitted to fulfill their prim mission by 
being placed in a straight row next to the walk. At 
their backs, adjoining the lawn, we placed alternate 
clumps of gift iris and hardy phlox, with a gen- 
erous sowing of opium poppies to insure midsummer 
gayety. Then we removed the few lonesome and 
purposeless shrubs dotted about the lawn to the other 
boundary of our grass plot, and by leaving an un- 
broken lawn we greatly improved the appearance of 
our frontage. To surround these shrubs and to 
keep them from feeling hurt, we made a long irreg- 
ular bed, which ran between an apple and a cherry 
tree, holding a very indiscriminate lot of plants and 
a perfect kaleidoscope of color; we had not grown 
fastidious then and we wanted -flowers, no matter 
whether they were intended for bedfellows or not. 

Here California poppies, marigolds and calliopsis 
made a blaze of gold; cornflowers, larkspurs and 
ageratum equaled the sky in blueness; and Phlox 
Drummondi of every shade of salmon pink, white and 
red, were rivaled by the motley colors of the varie- 
gated pansy border. It was beautiful chaos, and 

14 



taught us much of the extent to which nature can 
combine colors without jarring the eye. 

At the rear we transformed a spinster-looking out- 
building by draping its straight front with morning 
glories, cunningly lured by strings tacked to the 
very pinnacle of the roof. On the other side of the 
building, in the shade, we planted in our blissful 
ignorance a long row of sunflowers ; in effort to see 
their god, the sun, they were forced to grow to an 
unheard-of height, their shining faces smiling fully 
sixteen feet from the ground. 

Bordering the path leading to the seed yard, we 
made a hedge of four-o'clocks. In a long bed at the 
side of the back yard were planted candytuft, di- 
antlius, Marguerite carnations, asters and cosmos. 
Well, you should have seen the bloom and riot of 
color in the midst of which we had our happy being 
that season! It began with the May snowdrift of 
candytuft, and lasted through the midsummer blare 
of marigolds, larkspur and poppies to the asters 
in early fall, and the tall cosmos which bloomed long 
into October, as the frost was late that year. 

We had no problems at that time; there were no 
roses to spray and carry over winter, no perennials 
to mulch in the fall, — just a season of irresponsible 

15 



19* FUoe «. Flower C-tJen 

joy, color and fragrance, with nothing to do but 
eradicate weeds and pick flowers. But, being hu- 
man, we were not content ; we had drunk of the wine 
of lure, and we secretly conspired to add to our prob- 
lems next season by entering further into the land 
of flowers, and acquiring an adjoining wilderness 
of two and a half acres to hold all our planned-for 
treasures. 

All winter long we pored over new catalogues, 
mouthing the strange names of biennials and peren- 
nials, the married and single names of roses, and the 
hieroglyphic-like titles of lilies. 

From a modest beginning that first year we have 
become flower gourmands and experimentalists, just 
as you, too, are sure to be, once you enter the 
boundaries of that realm whose enchantments know 
no limitations. 



16 



y\nncrsJ(s^ 




TT would seem wisest for the new garden enthusiast 
•*• to purchase mixed seed of everything at first, for 
this gives so much wider range from which to make 
an eventual choice of favorites. 

Shirley Poppies 

Our greatest discovery the second season was 
the Shirley poppy, which ever since has held our 
hearts enslaved. If I had to make a choice between 
owning roses and Shirleys, I'd have to choose the 
latter. 

No day can be wholly desolate which holds a 
Shirley poppy. From May to October a breakfast 
without them would seem tasteless. In the early 
morning I always go straight from my own bed 
to that of the poppies, and there, in the midst 
of intoxicated bees, stand as bewitched as they by 

19 



the dewy beauty of the silken flowers swaying in the 
morning breeze. 

If picked before the lover-bees have sapped their 
strength and' loosened their petals, and the stems 
placed at once in water, the Shirley s will last for two 
or three days indoors. 

Manure is generally fatal to members of the poppy 
family, should they come in immediate contact; 
therefore it is best to enrich by trenching the spots 
which are to hold poppies, lining the bottom of the 
excavation with manure ; then for future fertilization 
use commercial fertilizer worked in cautiously be- 
tween the plants. 

All bores can prove things, so I am content 
merely to disprove. I take particular delight in 
having shattered the truth of the statement made that 
poppies cannot be transplanted. We transplant the 
majority of our poppies, both Shirley and opium, 
and thereby have them just where we want them, and 
also assure their having plenty of space to spread 
their branches. The secret lies in taking them up 
when they are young, on a cloudy day or late in the 
afternoon, digging so deep beneath that not one of 
the tender hairlike roots is maimed. At first we re- 
moved them in small clumps, then, when firmly estab- 



IS's Mb * Mo&er (S^en 

lished, pulled up the four or five superfluous plants 
in each group leaving only the strongest to develop. 
But now we have become such experts we plant them 
singly with perfect success. 

One of the dearest things about the Shirleys is the 
sweet surprises they bring, by conspiring with the 
breezes which aeroplane them to all sorts of odd 
places, transforming neglected corners into domains 
of beauty. The owner of an old country garden near 
by supplied us with a variety we have never 
found duplicated in any of the packages purchased 
— white, pink and red beauties wearing nine ruffled 
silk petticoats. The improved Shirleys are gener- 
ally single or only slightly double. It is generally 
conceded that the single form of any flower holds the 
highest perfection of line, yet these old crinolined 
Shirleys maintained their own, even when planted side 
by side with the new poppies wearing the very latest 
in plain gored skirts. 

It is odd that when rare and strangely beautiful 
tints are produced in a member of a flower family, 
the plant itself is often puny. One year we pos- 
sessed a single Shirley poppy plant of tuberculous 
appearance, which coughed up one blue blossom; al- 
though we sat up nights to save the seed, and appar- 

oi 



ently secured a goodly number, yet the next season 
only one or two sickly plants appeared to wanly smile 
at us through a few blossoms, then passed forever 
from our garden. 

There was another poppy bearing flowers the shade 
of a gray-blue twilight sky; fortunately, this un- 
healthy Shirley maid was wedded by a bee priest, to a 
stalwart Captain Kidd of a scarlet popp} r , with the 
result that the children were dusk gray with a flash of 
flame about their middles — a variety which, thank 
goodness, inherited the constitution of their lusty 
father and still flourish, the loveliest of all our present 
poppy inhabitants. 

Shirleys are very particular creatures (except 
when they become vagabonds), demanding rich soil 
and lots of sunshine. 4 

Sow, sow, sow, sow in May, June, July up to fall, 
and then sow more plentifully than ever for it is 
the autumn-sown seed which will give the sturdiest 
plants ; attending to their own business of cheerful 
existence through winter snows, they will bloom early 
the following spring. While you are sowing dili- 
gently all season for a succession of bloom, the pop- 
pies will be sowing as hard as they can themselves, 
so with their collaboration you may possibly get 

22 



enough to satisfy an ever increasing desire and love 
for them. 

Nicotiana 

Next to these poppies our greatest dependence 
is put in the nicotiana or night-blooming tobacco. 

After trying, as was our duty, all the shades ad- 
vertised, we decided to cling only to the white affinis 
variety. This is the flower paramount for your 
night beauty. Grant Allen tells of its incandescent 
property, a phosphorescence which makes it a beacon 
light for the buccaneers of the night. 

Nothing is so absolutely entrancing as a corner of 
these starry blossoms in the moon glow, with their 
ever hovering, devoted swains, the moths. Their fra- 
grance satisfies every craving of the human nose. 

By trimming back behind the seed pods, the nico- 
tiana's blooming can be continued up to frost. Do 
plant a mass of them near the veranda so you may 
see them and whiff them every night of summer. 

Annual Coreopsis 

We simply couldn't live without the gayety of 
the annual coreopsis — called " calliopsis " by the 
seedsmen, but fortunately flowers don't mind being 
nicknamed. 

23 



No other flower can so disguise its connection with 
earth. The coreopsis stems are so fragile and incon- 
spicuous that the flowers are constellations suspended 
in space. The wine-red variety cannot be surpassed 
for velvety richness. Once given the freedom of 
your garden, you need never bother your head again 
about the coreopsis, but permit them to spring up 
where they will, making gold frames for all your 
flower pictures. 

Sweet Peas 

Because of the wire netting almost universally 
used for sweet peas, it is wise to make very sure of the 
spot whereon you desire them to abide before putting 
up their permanent supports ; for if anything can 
disrupt a family's peace and love it is trying to re- 
move a stretch of chicken wire which has been 
tightly nailed to posts. 

If the spot is heavily enriched each year to replace 
the drain on the earth's strength, sweet peas really 
do better where they have once grown than in entirely 
new ground. No doubt there is some scientific rea- 
son for this, but I'm not a scientist — only an ob- 
server and recorder. 

We make the trench very deep so that when the 



IS's Mate * Mo&ei* <E^Aea 

peas come up they must grow six inches before they 
can look the landscape over; this trench is gradually 
filled as the vines grow, and having been forced to 
deep roots they forgive us for not watering and 
survive even prolonged droughts. As in the case of 
almost all other flowers, we have only bought sweet 
pea seed once, and the stock from our own seed in- 
creases in bloom and variety each year. The only 
thing I don't like about them is the way they bull- 
doze you into picking their flowers every day whether 
you want to or not, so I always solve this on the first 
day of June by sweetly making a gift of the peas 
to some member of the family. 

Salpiglossis 

For rich, glowing, unusual tones plant salpig- 
lossis, a native of Chili, and a distant relative of the 
petunia. 

Petunias 

Speaking of the petunias, I've changed my 
former opinion of them since I've seen the wonders 
wrought by that inspired hybridizer, Myrtle Francis 
of California, the woman to whose tireless studies we 
owe the extraordinary ruffled beauties, measuring six 

25 



19* Mdce *> Mo&er (E^rJen 

and a half inches across, in rose, blue, white, va- 
riegated and red. One of the meekest moments of 
my life was when Mrs. Francis asked me : " Have 
you ever put a ruffle on a flower? " I could only 
shake my head negatively and make amends by my 
homage to the woman who had. 

Cornflowers 

Of course we can never reflect the sky too often 
in our garden, so all blue flowers are to be grown 
profusely. Of these the king is the cornflower, 
frankly claiming its royalty by its title of Kaiser 
blumen. It is at its best in masses where it does not 
need, nor make you desire, any other flower to perfect 
the beauty. Then sprinkled throughout the garden, 
preferably near the white and golden flowers, it is 
also a harmonizer; I am not yet patriotic enough to 
enjoy the cornflower in close proximity to red blos- 
soms. 

Sweet Sultans 

The other variety of cornflowers dubs itself 
sweet sultan, denoting an evidently unique virtue in 
Turkish royalty. The sultans pretend to a greater 
aristocracy than their blue German kindred, by being 

26 




NOTHING IS SO ABSOLUTELY ENTRANCING AS A 
CLUMP OF NICOTIANA IN THE MOON GLOW 



fastidious about their location and snobbishly bloom- 
ing less. But I bow the knee to their white and 
lavender crowns and carefully save the seed, of which 
they are rather sparing, acknowledging in my heart 
their really imperial loveliness. 

Mourning Bride 

When I was a child I thought the mourning 
bride the most romantic of flowers, because of the 
name and our not having any in our own home gar- 
dens ; in order to see them I had to make a pilgrimage 
across the railroad tracks to visit an old bride who 
had been mourning her husband for about fifty years. 
(Another reason I enjoyed going to visit this ancient 
gardener was because she was the only perfectly bald 
lady I had ever seen or heard of, but I think raising 
the flowers had nothing to do with this peculiarity.) 
Since I've grown up, the flowering mourning 
brides' sorrow has been mitigated; they have put on 
half-mourning of lavender, and sometimes appear 
garbed in white and pink like unwedded young girls. 
I love the new widows who are perking up and taking 
notice again, yet I still save my greatest admiration 
for those inconsolable blossoms which remain true to 
their memories while robed in funeral dress. 

?J1 



Cosmos 

In localities where frost is apt to steal upon the 
garden prematurely, it is almost futile to attempt to 
raise the splendid tall cosmos of dilatory habits, for 
just about the time they are laden with buds, and the 
plants have reached the height of eight feet, we go 
forth some morning to find them blackened ruins, 
which wrings the feelings unnecessarily. 

Fortunately, however, there is a variety of early 
blooming cosmos which can get ahead of frosts. It 
never attains the height of the lazy, more beautiful, 
late kind, nor are the flowers as large. The foliage 
of the cosmos is so light and airy it adds poetry of 
background to any other flower, and I would grow it 
for its foliage beauty even if it never flowered at all. 
It is wise to tie the plants to firm stakes early in the 
season, lest the first storm leaves them standing all 
awry. 

Phlox Drummondi 

For reckless happy-go-lucky beauty sow gay 
little Phlox Drummondi any and everywhere. Buy 
mixed seed, then save with particular care the seed 
of those of the rare tints of pale yellow and deeper 
tan. By eradicating the plants of the magenta ones 

28 



19% Mk *> Mo^r (Ervden 

as soon as the blossoms dare to show their faces, you 
may prevent their reappearance; all the other va- 
rieties are exquisite and remind one of the quaint, 
dainty old dresses of our grandmother found in gar- 
ret trunks. 

Each year we let some part of our vegetable gar- 
den enjoy a rest cure, and sow it in clover which is 
plowed under in the fall, making that portion of the 
garden particularly rich the following season. With 
the clover we once sowed all our superfluous phlox 
seed, making a wonderfully pretty field. Another 
year we combined the clover seed with Shirley pop- 
pies — the result was wonderful. 

When the early strawberries are through, give 
them a deep spading between rows, then sow gay 
little phlox to take the place of weeds which other- 
wise are sure to come ; the strawberries will be grate- 
ful for the shade of the phlox, and the phlox will 
add to your happiness every day of vegetable-pick- 
ing during the summer. 

Yellow Flowers 

Before our grapevines had attained sufficient 
size to require a trellis, we utilized a stretch of about 
ten feet in width between the twenty vines to make a 

29 



19* MfcLe *> Mo&er (S^pJen 

path of gold. On a line with the small vines we 
planted the double sunflowers which look like monster 
quilled dahlias ; in front of these were the large 
African marigolds, and next to the centre path there 
was a border, three feet each side, of California 
poppies of the glowing yellow and copper tints. 
The path was of such dazzling brilliance that it quite 
dazed the eye and took the breath away. 

Dwarf Marigolds 

The dear little marigolds of velvet rosettes make 
the most fascinating dwarf hedges. There is no more 
pungent, charming odor than that of their leaves 
crushed in the hand. In planting the hedge, give it 
great richness and a space of eight inches between 
plants. 

Mignonette 

Mignonette is seldom praised except for its fra- 
grance, but if grown in rich soil, from seed of the 
giant varieties, the flower heads will be fully eight 
inches long and really beautiful in their greenish- 
white and reddish tones. For mingling in vases with 
other flowers they are ideal, harmonizing with every- 
thing and lending a fragrance to an entire room. 

30 



IS'9 £kle * Plover <St*4n 

Annual Mallow 

The annual mallow is a most important factor 
of summer beauty ; its luscious, pink, hibiscus-like 
flowers are borne in greatest profusion. 

Nasturtiums 

I think no one can have too many nasturtiums ; 
they grow so easily they are taken for granted and 
are not half as much appreciated as they would 
be if perverse in their habits. There is not a more 
beautiful form in the flower kingdom, and in color 
the nasturtium blossoms reproduce flame and sun- 
light. 

We have obtained through accident a tint which 
I've never seen in any other flower, that of old gold 
with an actual gilt glistening over its surface. 

The nasturtium vine, sad to say, is mentally idiotic ; 
instead of using nice wire netting provided for 
its climbing, it will unfailingly sneak off under the 
porch, wasting its life in trying to pretend it is a 
ghost in the cellar; or if planted by the side of the 
house it will stupidly run against a crack in the wood, 
and grow snub-nosed in an attempt to go through a 
cranny two sizes too small. 

But just as some mothers dote most on the child 
31 



which outsiders think intellectually inferior to her 
others, so the very fact of a nasturtium's not being 
" right bright " makes me very tender toward it, and 
without apologies I declare it to be my favorite 
flower-child. 



32 



QiennMs £& KerennialS 




ims £& rerennialS 



ienm& 



A GARDENER lives in the future ; he is planting 
•*■ *■ for years to come, and what dear conspirators 
the flowers are to make him forget the aging face of 
Time. 

Many people do not have perennials in their gar- 
dens because of a mistaken idea of the slowness of 
their growth. There is really only one year of over- 
ture and waiting when biennials and perennials are 
planted, and a garden once begun continues itself in- 
definitely, by self-seeding and root doubling; so in a 
few years it is not a question of enlarging one's flower 
possessions but of finding space enough to accommo- 
date the ever increasing floral army. 

It is a fortunate sign when anyone mingles the 
ephemeral sphere of annuals with the abiding one of 
perennials, roses, shrubs and fruit, for it means they 
have taken root themselves in the new home soil, hav- 

35 



EH Make » lo#er <S^*L 

ing become human perennials who wish to surround 
themselves with appropriate life companions. 

Oriental Poppy 

The most gorgeous of all perennials is the 
Oriental poppy, the scarlet variety of which grows 
readily from seed. I have never succeeded in raising 
the shrimp pink and other delicate shades, except by 
purchasing roots. 

These poppies should be transplanted to their 
permanent location when quite infantile, for they 
throw down roots to the very centre of the earth if 
left to develop fully in the seedbed; there is then no 
implement that is long enough to transplant them 
without amputating most of their rat-tail roots. 
Planted so they may have a background of pine or 
other evergreen, they are dazzlingly gorgeous in 
May. Their splendor almost necessitates having the 
field undisputed, for they are so exclamatory you 
would not notice any other flower, and few blossoms 
can stand the challenge of the poppies' riotous color. 

Dying down to the earth in midsummer they then 
give an opportunity of using the space between them 
for asters, which can be transplanted to the poppy 
bed as soon as they have developed the third leaf. 

36 



Moles are the Oriental poppy's only enemies, and I 
know of no way to stop their destruction except al- 
ways to have plenty of new roots, raised from one's 
own seed, to take the place of those devoured. I 
have heard that planting castor oil beans will dis- 
courage moles, but I have not tested it. 

Foxgloves 

The foxglove, which once had the sweet name of 
fairyglove, is one of the most dependable and dec- 
orative of all biennials, and is always willing to 
pretend a return to the wild state by blooming 
happily in the most shady bits of the wood-garden. 
Once buy a ten-cent package of mixed digitalis (as 
the seed catalogues call them), and you are provided 
for life with foxgloves, for they seed themselves, 
scattering to all parts of the premises. These self- 
sown foxgloves generally make the largest and most 
florescent plants. 

The white variety is our favorite ; at night it seems 
like a miniature campanile hung with a hundred elfin 
bells. 

Delphinium 

The delphinium is a prime favorite in English 
gardens. It is larkspur elevated to a perennial and 

37 



EH FUoe * Hofer (Wc! 



en 



more fashionable state. Purchased seed will not 
succeed, for the delphinium seed seem to lose their 
vitality unless planted a short time after maturing. 
Therefore it is best to begin by purchasing roots of 
the different shades at fifteen cents a root, then to 
increase your stock it will be well to permit the per- 
fection of seed in late July so you can plant them 
early enough to have well established roots by 
autumn. In succeeding years, however, by cutting 
the flower stalks back after the first blooming period, 
you may enjoy a second harvest of flowers. The 
delphinium needs much richness of soil, which can be 
made by digging into the ground the winter mulch- 
ing of manure after the plants have begun to sprout 
in early spring. 

Hardy Phlox 

The hardy phloxes are the very backbone of a 
permanent garden. Purchasing roots of the pretti- 
est shades, by saving your own seed and sowing at 
once, you will have multiplied your stock in two 
years to tremendous proportions. The seed of the 
hardy phlox, like that of the delphinium, will not 
grow if not sown promptly, yet seed men persist in 

38 



I9's M* * Mo&er (S-taJea 

offering to the ever hopeful gardeners seed that is 
years old. 

After the plants have been established two years, 
root division should begin. From that time on it is 
necessary to be generous and begin giving plants 
away to friends. 

The salmon-pink phlox is beyond compare, and is 
too beautiful to be mitigated by any combination un- 
less it be with the pure white Miss Lingard. One of 
the richest effects I've seen was wrought by a long 
hedgelike border of the red phloxes alone. We have 
found that the hardy phloxes require moisture to do 
their best, therefore we changed them frequently un- 
til we discovered the most naturally moist, yet sun- 
shiny portion of the garden. 

Sweet William 

For stability and a fine tone of time there is the 
Sweet William, without which no garden seems a real 
garden. Growing readily from seed they are prac- 
tically immortal, for, although called biennials, such 
is their habit of reseeding their own beds, if a 
plant ever perishes there are so many children to take 
its place, one never thinks of the departed mother. 

39 



It is well, however, to remove all the plants from the 
bed about every five years, redigging deeply, refertil- 
izing, then replanting, leaving about ten inches be- 
tween the roots so the clumps may have plenty of 
space to spread. Personally I love the single variety 
best and the more multi-colored the effect the better 
I like it, for some old-timey flowers are like patch 
quilts — the more indiscriminate the mingling of color 
the more consistently traditional they seem. 

Canterbury Bells 

I have never owned enough Canterbury bells, yet 
I plant the seed every spring and always have hun- 
dreds of big crowns to set out in the early fall. 

They are the most witching plants, their bell-like 
flowers of such loveliness I am always thankful they 
did not add extreme perfume to their already perfect 
sorcery. 

The single ones seem far more beautiful than the 
double or cup-and-saucer variety, but it is well to try 
seed of every kind, then mark with tape the favorites 
as they bloom, saving only the seed of the loveliest 
for future association. 

Coming in all delicate shades of lavender, blue, 
pink and white, they add a delicacy and poetry to 

40 



every bed in which their bells chime. As the plants 
die after fulfilling their mission of beauty it is of 
course necessary to keep a new supply on hand, 
which becomes a simple matter once you have formed 
the habit of seed gathering. Like all biennials they 
do not bloom for a year from the time of seed plant- 
ing, therefore they must be carried over the winter; 
to do this successfully a covering of evergreens is 
best, as manure mulching is apt to rot the crowns. 

Hollyhocks 

I could scarcely wait all these pages to rave over 
the incomparable hollyhock, for there is nothing that 
adds such dignity and picturesqueness to a garden as 
these old, but ever improved, favorites. As sentinels to 
guard entrances, as escorts down winding paths, they 
have no rivals, and as impromptu stars they are often 
our greatest teachers in unpremeditated composition. 
Massing is a fine law and as a general rule is to be 
observed, but it is wonderful how a Richard Strauss 
of a hollyhock can spring up in some unlooked-for 
spot, shattering all preconceived laws of harmony, 
transforming all our theories of arrangement. 

One hollyhock removed from its brethren and 
standing tall and stately in a bed of other plants is 

41 



starred preeminently. There is no limit to their 
tones, ranging through the whole palette from white 
to black with the exception of blue, but the lavender 
varieties approach even that color. 

There are now offered hollyhock seed which bloom 
the first season, and from these we have obtained 
some of our rarest shades of salmon. Our annual 
hollyhocks have also proven to be perennials, as they 
flower even better the second and third season. 

Unfortunately the hollyhock has of late years 
been subject to a blight or scale, and although we 
have had some success in keeping this in check by 
use of a spray of permanganate of potash on the 
underside of the leaves, yet on the whole I think it 
is better to sacrifice the plant affected and try rais- 
ing new ones from new seed. 

One florist grows all his hollyhocks in Ohio, al- 
though his nursery is in the East, as it has been 
found that for some reason hollyhocks there grown 
are free from the blight. 

Forget-me-not 

I often wonder how people find it so easy to do 
without the forget-me-not, when I cannot conceive 
of a spring without them. Planted on a bank wind- 

42 




THE CANTERBURY BELLS ADD A DELICACY AND 
POETRY TO EVERY BED IN WHICH THEY CHIME 



r 




ing along the uneven boundary of our celery marsh, 
they make a sheet of blue in May. They are also 
ideal plants for bordering shady beds, but they 
thrive best in moist locations and scatter their seed 
to the four winds. 

Creeping Phlox 

For early spring glory in the covering of bank 
sides or bordering of beds, there is nothing better 
than the creeping phlox subulata, or moss pink. It is 
necessary to purchase a few clumps of the pink and 
white, then by root division you may in two years 
repeat them throughout the garden. 

Perennial Alyssum 

The perennial alyssum, saxatile compaction, is 
also a very obliging flower for bank covering. It is 
hardy and its small yellow flowers often bloom the 
first season after seed planting. 

Gaillardia 

The gaillardia is so well known and so uni- 
versally planted, it would probably resent any addi- 
tional praise from me, especially as I, not particu- 
larly admiring its peculiar tone of red, could only 
give moderate praise. 



19* Me » flower (Swlen 

Red Sunflower 

One of our most unique perennials we bought 
under the name of " hardy red sunflower," but a 
friend informs us it is the wild cone flower of Kansas. 
Whatever it is, we consider it one of our treasures. 
In color it is a pinkish red and has the single sun- 
flower's petals, with a high brown centre like a peaked 
hat. The plant grows to four feet and the flowers 
are about the size of the largest dwarf sunflowers. 
Having very long stems, they are extremely beauti- 
ful in a tall vase. 

Feverfew 

We can never have enough white flowers for 
general harmonizers and creators of night beaut}^, so 
we must be sure to include the old-fashioned white 
feverfew which resembles the small button chrysan- 
themum. 

Hardy Coreopsis 

For the Sahara parts of your garden — and in 
every garden there are sure to be dry, desertlike 
places — plant the hardy coreopsis. There is no 
flower so long-suffering, which will put up with such 
poverty of soil and dearth of moisture, as this 

44 



coreopsis, and there isn't a lovelier flower, even 
among the denizens of the field. 

Speaking of moisture, it may be enlightening and 
soothing to many to know that we never water our 
flowers. Those which absolutely need moisture are 
planted where nature has thoughtfully provided some ; 
the others, from not being watered, throw their roots 
down very deep and consequently learn to do with- 
out artificial moisture. Watering undoubtedly in- 
duces superficial root development and that is never 
to be encouraged. The fact that we lose so few 
plants by freezing — and we live in a cold zone — I 
attribute to the deep root our flowers have been 
forced to make. Leave the watering to Providence 
and both you and your plants will be better off. 

Bamboo 

The bamboos scarcely come under the title of 
perennials, yet I want to mention them here and beg 
you to try some if you do not live too far north ; you 
cannot imagine a more fascinating addition to a 
garden. When wind-swept they kowtow with the 
grace of court bows, and at night the crunching and 
grinding of their poles against each other is weirdly 
wonderful. The bambusa japonica — the " me- 

45 



take of gardens " — grows to fifteen feet, and will 
thrive in a drier locality than the other varieties. It 
is perfectly hardy as far north as New York City, 
if protected from the east wind. 

Lily-of-the-V alley 

There are some flowers which make me feel par- 
ticularly queer and blissfully unreal, and the greatest 
of these is the lily-of-the-valley. It is so peculiarly 
suggestive of fairies, while its odor wafts the senses 
beyond the border land of memory. 

The lilies spread rapidly and from a few pips to 
start with, you may make every damp spot in your 
garden quite heavenly with them in a couple of sea- 
sons. 

Hardy Chrysanthemums 

With a small root capital of chrysanthemums in 
a few years you can be a regular chrj^santhemum 
Croesus. They should be scattered in every portion 
of the garden, for that means all pervading beauty 
far into November. 

The best time to separate the chrysanthemum is in 
the spring. In the large varieties there are the white, 
cream, red, wine red, yellow, orange and pink, besides 

46 



the yellow and white daisy-like ones. With the 
fringy larger ones and the exquisite little button va- 
rieties of white, yellow, old gold and maroon, we 
surely do not need to regret the impossibility of suc- 
cessfully growing in our Northern gardens the large 
show and Japanese varieties. When the branches 
have grown to over a foot in height pinch out the 
centre of each crown; these will then send out three 
or four branches, giving many more flower tips in 
the autumn. After the frost has blackened them, 
cut down to the ground and mulch with old manure. 

Plan so that no part of your garden is without 
bloom for nine months in the year. This is easily 
managed by taking a little forethought. 

In one of our vaudeville beds, leading out to the 
rose garden, the regular head-liners are snowdrops, 
tulips, hyacinths, bluebells of Scotland, oriental 
poppy dancers, then several midsummer performing 
annuals — Shirley poppies, marigold and ten-weeks 
stocks, followed by those autumn artists, the Japan- 
ese anemones, cosmos and hardy chrysanthemums. 
Take another spot; spring opens with scillas and 
narcissi, continues with columbines, which are tagged 
by foxgloves ; then iris, Shasta daisies and larkspur 

47 



continue until the hollyhocks' great steeples of bloom 
eclipse all that has gone before. Then lilies absorb 
the admiration, until hardy phlox leads once more to 
the inevitable chrysanthemum climax. 

Near the house, huddled about a motherly lilac, is 
another bed in which the crocuses, tucked all about, 
first awaken in March; the jonquils then sing an 
April solo, to the accompaniment of hardy primroses, 
while the forget-me-nots lead up to the Sweet William, 
followed by coreopsis and delphinium; asters, hardy 
phlox and chrysanthemums bring the season to a close. 

Perennials need particularly rich homes, and as 
they are supposed to remain for some time in one 
spot, the greatest chance for deep digging is before 
they are planted. 

A good way is to wait until you are very mad 
about something, then it is remarkable with what 
violence you can wield a garden tool and make the 
dirt fly — it serves the double purpose of deep cul- 
ture and relieving your own feelings. 

I am accused of moving my entire garden each 
fall, and I have to swallow the accusation, for there 
is a perfect house-cleaning inaugurated each autumn 
because of mentally recorded mistakes in arrange- 
ment which I could not realize until the actual bloom- 

48 



ing season. It is only by means of constant shifting 
and rearrangement that we can come nearer, or even 
keep pace with, an ever-growing ideal of perfection. 

As time goes on the perennials will gravitate to 
their own inevitable niche amid appropriate sur- 
roundings, so don't ask a professional landscape 
gardener to solve your problems beforehand, for you 
would thereby rob yourself of half the fun. A gar- 
den planned for you by someone else would as little 
fit your needs as a friend's advice would solve our 
own private life-riddles. 

To produce by our own physical efforts all the 
beauty to feed the soul, all the vegetables and fruit 
to feed the body, would seem the natural ideal of life. 
And to reach this ideal is happily possible even if 
we do it merely as a byplay of our real life work. 
The more exacting the profession, the more nerve 
straining the daily occupation of the mind, the 
greater is the respite and relaxation of the garden 
— it above all else mends the ravelled threads of 
nerves and keeps the mental balance true. Life is 
so full of duties — the things we ought to do but 
don't like to — and so full of imperfect professions, 
which require us to do many unnatural things every 
day, that gardening is the revolt, the reflex, the re- 

49 



laxation. We can do in a garden the thing for 
which all of us were intended, and that is create 
beauty. 

Above all we have a right to be frankly ourselves 
in our own home surroundings, and the less the per- 
sonal garden suggests the professional perfection, the 
more does it hold of loving intimacy. Leave the 
public parks to attain the " icily regular, splendidly 
null." I've seen many things in famous gardens 
which I could admire tremendously as belonging to 
someone else yet never covet for myself. There is 
one garden I know that has all the paths made of 
grass — grass so perfect a dandelion would not dare 
creep in. The effect is beautiful and makes the walk- 
ing very comfortable and soft to the feet, but I could 
never have grass paths because I am the gardener, 
and the perpetual use of the lawn mower required is 
prohibitive. 

Then, too, our garden is not at all a show place, 
it is merely a happiness garden, and to keep it so 
I must never introduce features which would shortly 
transform it into a burden. 

There are many parts of our wilderness which can 
only claim accidental charm, for I have a foolish 
habit of being grateful for any and every kind of 

50 



19* Make *» Mo^r (SwJen 

flower, and if cornflowers, annual coreopsis, larkspur, 
candytuft and Shirley poppies, foxgloves and holly- 
hocks have taken their welcome for granted, I haven't 
the heart to weed them out. So it chances much 
of my gardening is haphazard and entirely outside 
of all law and order. 



51 



liilies Iris & M 



eonies 




ics 



TT needed much strategy for me to procure space 
■*■ for my lilies, iris and peonies, for my garden 
partner's specialty is vegetables, and as he has a 
lusty appetite it happens that he considers it most 
important to retain the greater part of the back gar- 
den — especially the richer parts — for his vege- 
tables. 

While he applauds and admires my efforts in the 
flower domain, he does not care to lessen his spiritual 
enjoyment of flowers by too great a corporeal labor, 
or shattering intimacy. I never disputed in words 
his natural right to the best parts of the back garden. 

Always outwardly agree with a man — that is the 
wisest thing I've thought so far in this book. 

I agreed and then racked my brain as to how I 
could win by force of tact a certain tract of land 

55 



I9's FUoe ^ Mo&er CWcL 

abutting against the rear and sides of my rose garden 
— a tract devoted to tomatoes and sweet potatoes, 
both very pretty members of the vegetable family 
and not in the least objectionable to my roses; but, 
womanlike, I just coveted those two spaces. So I 
surreptitiously sent off for thirty roses and had them 
shipped to him with my card. When they arrived 
there was no place left in my own rose garden to 
offer him, and after much indifference on my part as 
to their fate, and many attempts on his to find rent 
room in other crowded flower tenements, he finally 
sighed : " I don't see anything to do but remove 
those sweet potatoes and place my rose garden on 
your south side, then all the roses will be together." 

I demurred and raised a thousand objections to 
spoiling so fine a potato patch, and in short so 
dramatized my real sentiments he became quite 
abusive of sweet potatoes and even peevishly insistent 
on having his own rose garden where he pleased. 

Having one victory to my credit, I planned a cam- 
paign for my lilies the following season. 

It had always been his wily habit to present me 
his tomato patch just when the weeds began to thrive, 
generously permitting me the picking of his " spoils 
of labor," as he picturesquely termed it. This sea- 

56 



son I callously refused his generosity, shamelessly 
ignored the weed swamped condition, and always hap- 
pened to be terribly busy elsewhere when the tiresome 
picking of fruit took place. 

After a tremendous tomato crop, which no one un- 
assisted could handle properly, and a glutted market, 
I was apparently amazed in the early autumn when 
I was one day presented with the tomato patch to do 
anything with I desired. 

Now in my most fanciful reckoning I had not 
hoped for such speedy reward of my virtues; be- 
fore I knew it I had called the spot " Kingdom 
Come," and so the land, to which the lilies, iris and 
peonies were translated, has remained named from 
that time. 

Now that I've given sage advice as to one way 
in which to obtain room for these aristocrats, I'll beg 
you to buy plenty of lilies, even if it bankrupts 
you. 

Auratums of every kind are marvelous, the red- 
banded and golden striped auratum pic turn, the 
vittatum rubrum twelve inches across with a wide 
crimson band through each petal, and the Wittei 
with gold streaked petals. One would think these 
lilies would have a hard job to live up to their 

57 



EK FUce * flower <§r*iJen 

tongue-twisting names, but they even overdo it. 
And their fragrance! It's like I hope to smell in 
Paradise. 

There is the Brownii, a Japanese lily which is 
much like the Bermuda lily of Easter fame only it 
has an under side of petal which looks like a brown 
suede glove. Other Nippon wonders are the Henryl 
which has rare orange-colored blossoms (which is, 
sad to say, $1.10 a bulb, but it's worth it), and 
the Leichtlini Red, an orange red with crimson 
spots. 

The speciosum Melpomene is particularly lovely, 
but unlike the proud auratums it hangs its head most 
demurely, and you have to lie on the ground to look 
up into its face. 

The dear old-fashioned candidum, the Madonna 
or Annunciation lily, is one of my prime favorites. 

The fine old tiger lily, with its honest freckled 
face, must not be forgotten. It is known to the 
growers as tigrinum simplex but it is the same reli- 
able lily in spite of its alias. 

By saving all those black peas which appear along 
the flower stem above ground, and planting them in 
a spot well marked so you won't forget and dig them 
up by mistake as I once did, you will after three 

58 



EH FLLe * Mo&er (SwJen 

years have enough bulbs to start a nursery of tiger 
lilies. 

I dig and move my auratums eA r ery fall. Perhaps 
it's because I'm a nervous gardener, but I think it's 
really because I once heard that auratums had a 
habit of disappearing in the ground and I'm always 
consumed with curiosity to see if mine have done it. 
Thereby I discovered they have children (little girls 
all named Lily, I suppose), along their stems under 
ground. These children I snatch as ruthlessly from 
their mothers as if they were chickens, placing them 
in the incubator ground about three inches deep. In 
two years they grow up, so in addition to the old 
mothers I have all the juvenile bulbs I want. It is 
most important never to permit manure to come in 
contact with the lily bulbs, so always place sand 
above and below them in planting. 

Our lilies which are fall planted do better and 
bloom more freely than the spring planted ones. We 
place a winter mulching of rather fresh manure on 
the ground which is left undisturbed until after the 
noses are well above ground in the spring, when it is 
worked in only a few inches deep between the stems. 
The winter freezing robs the manure of its burning 
quality. 

59 



19* Make * Flower tardea 

Now for the Japanese iris ; if you want to get 
those which are named Gekla-no-Nami, Sofu-no-Koi, 
Momijii-no-Taki, Ho-o-Jo, you may pay forty cents 
apiece for them; but if you are content to get mixed 
American grown roots, and shuffle the alphabet, 
naming them yourself, say, " frost-on-landscapc," 
" moon-dancing-on-milky-way," " petulant sea," you 
may obtain them for six dollars a hundred. We 
have the latter variety, personally christened. The 
only drawbacks to the Japanese irises are the misera- 
ble little heart worms (which really belong in corn), 
that insist on hiding in the sheaths of the buds, 
gnawing internally. The only thing to do for them 
is to watch and pray and murder. These irises will 
not do their best unless planted in a moist situation. 
Fortunately for me, " Kingdom Come " has that 
celestial quality. 

I hear that in Japan they actually flush water 
over the entire iris field just before flowering time, 
treating them almost as they do rice, but of course 
we can't emulate this ; and not even to obtain the 
Japanese perfection would I go to the trouble of 
watering. 

The Spanish irises are much grown in England for 
cut flowers. They are the most poetical of all. 

60 



IS's Mala * Mo^r (E^rJen 

Weird tones of bronze, barbaric gold, black, yellow, 
white and all shades of lavender and purple, give 
them an almost limitless palette. 

I hesitate to tell you their price for fear they will 
decline in your estimation — unless you are like me ; 
I always think, when I get anything at a great bar- 
gain, that I've accidentally found a treasure and that 
the poor dear salesman is being cheated, which gives 
an exquisite tinge of joy to the transaction. These 
irises are to be had in mixture for ten cents a dozen, 
thirty cents a hundred, two dollars and fifty cents a 
thousand — a thousand — think of that ! 

They are small bulbs which should be planted 
superficially — three or four inches deep. Tucked 
between and around the other irises they make all 
June lovely, then die down, effacing themselves until 
the following fall when they spring up, prematurely 
making ready for the next season. 

The iris called " German " is, strange to say, the 
model of the French design of fleur-de-lis. Though 
of very old lineage, many modern frills have been 
added to the original white and purple " flags " of 
our grandfathers. I love them even more than the 
aristocratic hypenated Japanese ones, because they 
are not proud but will flourish all over the garden, 

61 



and they haven't any " varmints " ; and above all, 
they have the most decorative form in all the flower 
world. 

I have often wondered why these irises are called 
" flags." In wondering aloud to a Frenchman the 
other day I accidentally found why. It seems that 
in Normandy the chaumlere or thatched cottage is 
given a finish, a foot wide, of clay, extending the 
entire length of roof peak. This is primarily for the 
purpose of preventing leaks, but it serves, generally, 
the more charming purpose of making a roof garden, 
for along the entire length of this ridgepole of clay 
sod, over the thatch, are planted these irises. From 
the pinnacle of roof the flowers float in the breeze 
like -flags. 

During my girlhood, in the south, I remember that 
many people pushed these flags out of their gardens, 
forcing the poor things to take up their neglected 
life on the edge of the dirt pavements in the dusty 
atmosphere of the big road. As I came home from 
school I would stop to gather a bunch of 
their frosted, ethereally-scented, peculiarly feminine 
flowers, feeling a childish misgiving as to my taste 
in secretly adoring these despised and so-called com- 
mon things. Now that they may be had in lavender 

62 



Let^s Fkke ^ Flower (Swden 

suffused with rose, yellow and maroon, white with 
lavender edge, and all shades of yellow and purple, 
they are prized and gloated over by gardeners. But 
for celestial purity, the white ones have never been 
surpassed. 

These German irises increase so rapidly in root 
they must be given plenty of space in which to multi- 
ply. As they have a tendency toward pushing their 
roots to the surface of the ground, it is well to cover 
all exposed roots with extra soil. Divide every 
fourth year. 

Owning peonies makes one feel very opulent be- 
cause the nurserymen charge so much for the roots 
one can never really afford them; a true sense of 
wealth comes only through possessing things beyond 
our incomes, such as automobiles, rare editions of 
books and peonies. Therefore, in view of their ex- 
pensiveness, I should advise as a first step toward 
peony possession, to make friends with somebody al- 
ready owning a lot, then do her some great service, 
such as saving her little dog's life; and when the 
owner is pouring forth gratitude and exclaiming, 
" Oh! what can I ever do to show my appreciation? " 
cast an eye on her peony stock, and say, " Those 
clumps need separating dreadfully. I'll come over 

63 



I£k Mate * Mo&er CtJIen 

to-morrow and help you do it, and perhaps you'll 
give me a few." 

I've never owned a peony of the tree variety, but 
I've coveted all those winch I've seen growing in other 
people's gardens and I hope some day some of these 
good people will die and bequeath me one. They are 
by far the most magnificent of the peony family and 
grow to the size of shrubs. 

When I get rich I'm going to own a Boule de Niege 
peony at $1.50 a root, and an Eduard Andre at $3 
per root, and a Festiva Maxima, and feel just as its 
name sounds, for $2. But at present I only own 
many unchristened clumps of mysterious single and 
double ones, some of which I obtained for $6 a 
dozen, others for $7.50, and I had to borrow from 
my lord and master to own even these. 

Peonies should always be planted in the fall. I 
believe many people do not know that they may be 
multiplied by very carefully bending down the new 
shoots after they have grown to a fair height in 
spring, covering the middle of shoot with earth and 
confining it in place with pegs. The earth covered 
part will make a root of its own; the following fall 
cut the child from the mother plant and reset else- 
where. 

64 



A heavy mulching of manure should be given the 
peonies in December, and this must not be disturbed 
until spring when all the inebriate-looking noses are 
far out of the ground ; then draw the manure away 
carefully and work into the ground between clumps. 

About every five years separate the clumps, or 
their roots will grow to look like Medusa's hair, and 
if not separated the blooming will lessen until, after 
long neglect, it ceases entirely. The country method 
of putting down four stakes encased in an old barrel 
hoop is the best support for peonies, preventing the 
heavy flower heads from becoming earth soiled. 



65 



R§§> e ^) 




Rf?S <b 



|/i VER since I was a little girl I've hoped each 
-*-- - * spring some nice old uncle from India would 
send me fifty dollars accompanied by a gruesome 
threat, such as : " If you use one cent of this money 
for anything but roses, the first night the east wind 
blows, a blackbird will come along and nip off your 
nose ! " But as it hasn't really happened yet, I 
have to pretend along the last part of April or first 
of May that it is about to happen, and start to work 
with pencil and greediness to select the fifty dollars' 
worth. As the days go by, merging joyous make- 
believe into saddening reality, my list is lopped, rose 
by rose, until some desperate night I finally make a 
neat list of the can't-possibly-be-lived-without roses 
(numbering perhaps only fifteen) and meekly send it 
off to the rosarian. 

It is so hard to advise another just what roses to 
69 



Let's Fkke ^ Flower fettfJen 

get, because my list of irresistible ones grows each 
year; and then the rose growers have been so gener- 
ous in sending me unlabelled gift roses. It so hap- 
pens now some of my loveliest roses' real names 
are unknown to me; they've had to attain names as 
best they might. For instance, that delicate pinky- 
white climber with the great loose clusters, having 
the odor of frankincense and myrrh, is known to us 
as the " horse-bitten rose," but to you that name 
would not be enlightening. 

And the men who label the roses — surely the per- 
fume goes to their heads, for how often they mix the 
labels! There was that Viscountess Folkestone I 
ordered for the sake of " Elizabeth of the German 
Garden." When it bloomed the flowers were of the 
most tantalizing shades of orange, shell pink, gold 
and flame — in short, compressed sunsets. 

Prizing her so highly I of course smothered her to 
death with winter flannels and in my anxiety un- 
dressed her first of all in the spring. She did look 
rather haggard, still I hoped to love her back to 
health, but by May she was a wizened mummy. I 
immediately ordered another Viscountess Folkestone 
in memory of the deceased. The new one grew, 
thrived, and bloomed — bloomed a well-bred, insipid 

70 



pink and white, showing not one trace of relationship 
with the dazzling dead dowager. Of course we all 
have reminiscent reasons for wanting certain roses, 
and, if you are like me, you'll keep on trying 
Marechal Niel and Fortune's Yellow, even though 
geography prohibits, and zero browbeats you. 

One of my rose prides is the Cherokee which I 
have teased through three winters now, because of 
the great wild hedges I remember along the highways 
in the south. Each winter I lighten its protection, 
as I have a theory that if you can persuade a delicate 
rose to survive several northern winters it grows 
hardier, following out nature's old law of adaptation 
to circumstance. 

Suppose we pretend together that the old uncle 
from India has stingily sent us only $9.25 instead of 
the expected $50 to spend on roses, and make the 
best of it. Out of that amount we'll have to get 
hybrid perpetuals, hybrid teas, plain teas, and climb- 
ers — and feel thankful all at the same time. 

The hybrid perpetuals, you know, are the per- 
fectly hardy, stand-any-old-sort-of-thing roses, and 
are supposed to only bloom in June, though mine 
bloom spasmodically all through the following 
months, because after each flowering I cut the branch 

71 



that has flowered almost back to the original stalk; 
then it puts out new shoots which generally blos- 
som. 

The hybrid teas are teas which have a hybrid per- 
petual ancestor on one side, and will stand through 
a northern winter, with protection. They are per- 
petual joys, blooming constantly until November. 
We'll have to blow ourselves to the hybrid teas even 
if it means economizing on the hybrid perpetuals. 
The tea roses — if you live in the north — are the 
ones you'll keep on trying for sentimental reasons, 
association, or sheer bravado, because they are not 
hardy here. But they are the most florescent and 
are very beautiful, so we'll have to indulge in a few 
for luxury; and by getting two-year-old plants we 
shall be generously rewarded this season anyway. 
The climbers we shall purchase will be of the rambler 
and wichuraiana varieties. 

Now that we know all about the kinds we shall 
have, here goes for the choosing. 

If we could have only one hybrid perpetual, I'd 
beg for Gloire Lyonnaise. Its blossoms are sumptu- 
ously beautiful in form, and of a golden-white shade. 
The foliage is very distinguished and is unpopular 
with insects. 

72 



Let's fkke ^ Flower fewden 

Soliel d'Or is the most spectacular rose — a 
mingling of peach, marigold and flame. Given great 
richness of fare, the bush will grow to prodigious 
size. 

A splendid velvety, reddish-black rose is the Prince 
Camille de Rohan. 

With Mrs. John Laing — that exquisite pink — 
we shall have a white, a pink, a red and a yellow. 
And hurrah ! we haven't a Jacqueminot — which is a 
good enough rose, but so ubiquitous it reminds me 
of a rebuke my old negro mammy gave me on a visit 
up north, when I directed her gaze skyward one 
night. " Go 'long, chile ; I kin see dat ole moon at 
home any time I wants to," she grumbled. 

If you know roses at all, and I said, " Guess which 
hybrid tea I'll mention first," I wager you'd say, 
" Killarney." 

Well, you're right. It's the Irish queen I'd be 
pining for first of all. In bud it is perfection ; when 
open, it " spreads and spreads till its heart lies 
bare." Even each fallen petal is a poem — a deep, 
pink shallop with prow of gold. 

Bessie Brown is so dignified, pallid and austere 
that she is known as Elizabeth in my garden. 

The Kaiserin Augusta Victoria has a Teutonic 
73 



hardiness, and carries her cream-white flower head 
high and regally. 

Souvenir de President Carnot has a feminine blush, 
but a masculine lustiness of vigor. 

Wellesley gives us a delicious shade of pink. 
Here we have two pinks, and we haven't any red at 
all; how could I have forgotten that giant J. B. 
Clark, when he has grown to nine feet in height try- 
ing to woo my Dorothy Perkins ? He is the reddest, 
healthiest, tallest man-rose in my garden. 

For yellow we will choose the Maman Cochet of 
that color. 

Now that we have reached the plain tea roses, I'm 
glad to begin with one that has proved almost as 
hardy with me as a hybrid tea — that is the Coquette 
de Lyon, which is a lemon yellow and positively 
wears itself out blooming. 

The Souvenir de Malmaison is, strictly speaking, 
a Bourbon, but we'll let it be a tea for our purposes. 
Shall we try it? It is so lovely with its shell pink 
tones; with especial care we may be able to winter 
it. 

Of course we can't possibly do without that fragile 
creature, the Duchess de Brabant. Such silky tex- 

74 




THE HORSE-BITTEN ROSE 




w 




IS'* MJce * McaW ^^rJen 

ture and delicate pinkness of cheek has she, I some- 
times find myself kissing her before I think. 

" Citron red with amber and fawn shading," says 
the rose catalogue of Souvenir de Victor Hugo — 
nobody could resist that. It is all that is sung of it 
and more, for they did not mention its fragrance. 

Isabelle Sprunt is another yellow lady of great 
florescence. Strange, it is so much easier to get } r el- 
lows in the teas, and yellow seems to go with frail- 
ness of constitution. But I've chosen only the teas 
which have proven hardiest with me, and those I can 
brag of having wintered a few times. 

For pure recklessness, let's buy the Golden Gate, 
simply because we can't resist its adorable blending 
of pale gold and rose. 

Another extravagance will be the Sunset, which 
we will be satisfied to entertain this one summer for 
its topaz and ruby beauty. 

Here we are to climbers, and I find Lynch' s hybrid 
first at the tip of my pen. Wherever you live, you 
may one day see a strange rose branch looking over 
your fence, and I'll just tell you now, so you will 
know, it will be my Lynch's hybrid. Not content 
with spreading in every direction, over all neighbor- 

75 



ing roses, I'm sure it will soon ignore garden bounds 
and become a wandering minstrel. I permit, its 
branches to grow six or ten feet, then drape them 
over to adjacent arches and neighboring rose poles. 
This has happened so often now that when the 
Lynch's hybrid blooms, there are ropes and ropes 
of roses swinging in every direction from the original 
trellis, and like the lady's elbow in the " Mikado " — 
" people come miles to see it." It is of the 
wichuraiana family and blooms only in June, but it 
blooms all of June. Its clusters are composed of 
many perfect, fairylike roses of pink, paling to 
white. 

Of the wichuraianas my next favorite is the Ever- 
green Gem. Its blossoms are not in clusters, but 
each rose comes in an edition-de-luxe. Of a pale 
3'ellow with apricot tones, the color of the flower is 
enough to recommend it, but shut your eyes and 
whiff its perfume and I'll wager you'll say : " Ripe 
apple." The Evergreen Gem prefers to sprawl on 
the ground, and delights in covering stone terraces, 
though it can be trained up, just as a monkey can 
be taught manshines, — but what's the use? 

Manda's Triumph (white) and Lady Gay 
(cherry pink) we must have. Of course I can't re- 

76 



Let^s Fklce -& Flower vfr^nden 

sist ending with Dorothy Perkins, but to praise its 
well-known charms would use up needless type. I'll 
only say, save all the cuttings of the first Dorothy 
you plant, so you will have at least a thousand to 
comfort you, when you've grown old. 

Now we'll count up our list and put the roses down 
sensibly in line, so we may see both what we have 
and what we have spent. 

HYBRID PERPETUALS 

Gloire Lyonnaise, larger size $ .20 

Soliel d'Or, two-year-old. 60 

Prince Camille de Rohan, larger size 20 

Mrs. John Laing, larger size 20 

HYBRID TEAS 

Killarney, larger size ., 30 

Bessie Brown, larger size 25 

Kaiserin Augusta Victoria, larger size 20 

Souvenir de President Carnot, larger size 20 

Wellesley, larger size 30 

J. B. Clark, larger size 40 

Yellow Maman Cochct, larger size 25 



77 



IQ's FULe ^ Mo&er <&*rJe a 



TEAS 



Coquette de Lyon, two-year-old 35 

Souvenir de Malmaison (Bourbon) two-year-old .35 

Duchess de Brabant, two-year-old 35 

Souvenir de Victor Hugo, two-3 T ear-old 30 

Isabelle Sprunt, two-year-old 35 

Golden Gate, " " " 35 

Sunset, " " " 35 



CLIMBERS 

Ly neb's Hybrid ( Wichuraiana) two-year-old 
Evergreen Gem, " " " " . 

Manda's Triumph " " " " . 

Lady Gay (Rambler) two-year-old 

Dorothy Perkins (Rambler) two-year-old. . 



.40 
.40 
.40 
.40 
.40 



$7.50 



So after all we haven't used up all the $9.25 ; you 
may either change " larger size " to " two-year-old " 
or you may spend the surplus on that dream-shat- 
terer I see advertised on the back of the last year's 
rose catalogues. 

The discovery of the North Pole was the most 
78 



awful blpw ever dealt the human imagination; it 
left poor disillusionized mortals but one realm to 
dream about — " The Blue-Rose Country." 

And now, alas ! and alas ! they've robbed us even 
of that. With the accompaniment of brass band 
and fireworks the rosarians announced the greatest 
achievement of the centuries, the materialization of 
the long sought blue rose. And that it should have 
happened so soon after the polar calamity and the 
advent of the sky prowlers — Oh ! it is too much to 
bear with fortitude. 

As I said, you may spend that surplus on the blue 
rose if you feel so disposed, but I — no; far be it 
from me to erase a time-honored phrase from litera- 
ture, and destroy that halcyon land where my fancy 
may stray when jaded by the banality of man's dis- 
coveries. 

But to go back to the subj ect of our expenditures ; 
just think, an ordinary bunch of roses you'd buy at 
the florist's to send your sweetheart (if you're a 
man), or your sweetheart would send you (if you're 
a woman) might cost more than all our old miserly 
uncle has sent us — and the bouquet from the florist's 
would be withered and thrown out in a w T eek, while 
here we're starting a rose garden for the grandchil- 

79 



IQ's Make * Mo&er €wJen 

dren of that sweetheart to enjoy years and years from 
now. 

And when we begin our rose garden we'll begin it 
right — no superficial digging, and sticking in any 
old way, of these precious plants. No; we'll lay 
our garden out first with a ball of twine tied to a 
stick, either informally or improvising as we go, in 
Gome private, original design which expresses us, not 
our neighbor. 

Then we will have it all dug as deep as we, by 
strategy and beguilement, can lure some man to dig 
and yet live after. When it is all dug, then mark 
out the individual holes, leaving generous space be- 
tween the hybrid perpetuals because they grow to 
be such big fellows, and don't forget to give Mr. J. 
B. Clark plenty of courting room. 

The hybrid teas need less space, generally speak- 
ing, while the teas may be planted about a foot 
apart. 

Save a climber to cover the arch (designed by 
yourself, not a store bought one) at the entrance to 
your rose garden, and trail the others over your 
paths in spots, where one will perhaps have to stoop 
a little when passing under blossoming branches, to 
find new beauty on the other side. 

80 



IS'* FUoe * Plover (S^rJen 

Each hole must be twenty inches deep ; take out 
all the old every-day soil, and put a little coal 
ashes in the bottom for drainage. If you have a 
compost pile, mix compost and well rotted cow 
manure, filling half the hole with the mixture. 
Sprinkle this with the plain soil, then place the sacred 
bush in the hole, spreading the roots in the direction 
they naturally take. Cover the roots with more bed 
soil, then press gently, gently, until the plant is 
firm; now pour in water from which the chill has 
been taken, until the hole is almost full, letting it 
soak in gradually ; then put compost and cow manure 
until it is higher than surrounding ground. Plant 
your feet firmly but not disrespectfully on the sur- 
face of the hole, packing it down around the rose 
bush, which you meantime hold in upright position. 

As a finality draw the bed soil up loosely about 
the stem of the rose, leaving the surface quite dry so 
the sun may have no chance to bake or broil. 

If you've done properly all this simple yet seem- 
ingly complex business, you need never water your 
rose again ! 

When the bushes are in the blooming stage, trim 
back severely all branches which have flowered, al- 
ways trimming so as to leave an eye on the outside 

81 



of the branch. Don't be afraid of cutting too much. 
The courageous rose surgeon is the one who gets the 
largest fees in flowers. 

If you have done enough trimming along through 
the summer blooming months, there will be no neces- 
sity for any trimming in the fall, except to cut out 
dead branches. Then, too, when you think of the 
cold that's coming, and the struggle the poor things 
will have to go through during the winter, to trim 
them at this perilous time would be as mean as to 
strike a man when he's down. In mid-April prune 
all blackened ends and weak branches. 

Some of your hybrid teas may look absolutely 
dead, but don't hold funeral services over them yet. 
Trim these apparently defunct bushes down to within 
two inches of the ground, .and shortly you will be 
rejoiced to see red nosed sprouts peeping through 
the ground — shoots from the rose-roots which gen- 
erally survive. 

If you don't own a compost pile do begin one to- 
day. Even a weed becomes valuable when pulled up 
and thrown on the compost pile. Contribute all 
dead blossoms, weedings, trimmings, garden rubbish, 
leaves, manure rakings, and even some garbage and 
dish water, if you can persuade the kitchen queen 

82 



to donate these valuables to jour pile. Place the 
compost far enough from the house, so you won't 
bother about the sanitary problem, and every few 
weeks spade a few shovelfuls of earth over the whole 
pile. After a 3 T ear's mellowing you will have some- 
thing more valuable than manure to work into your 
rose beds. 

Dig continually about the roses, with pronged 
spade, being careful not to tear the roots. The soil 
should always be kept loose if you would be spared 
the bugbear of watering. Mulch with lawn clip- 
pings, spading old supply under when the fresh is 
ready. Spray once a week with a water made foamy 
by tobacco and sulphur soap. You will not van- 
quish the insects — no, not in this world, but even 
abating them is a human triumph. 

About the middle of November purchase rye straw 
in bundles and after tying your rose bushes gently 
to a firm stake, sheathe the straw about the hybrid 
teas and plain teas, not too tightly, tying in about 
three places. The hybrid perpetuals may go nude 
all winter. Take a trip to the West Indies or Sicily 
about the middle of March so you may avoid the un- 
conquerable temptation to uncover your roses too 
soon. Return about the second week of April, dis- 

83 



robe jour plants and — live happily ever after all 
summer. 

You will realize, of course, that raising roses is 
not eating ice cream and cake. Believe me, the rose 
grower cannot be either a fool man or a lazy lady. 

It's so hard to write plain, practical facts about 
roses. To write of them properly one would irresist- 
ibly commit a sonnet. When you pick your first 
great basketful some very dewy morning next June, 
please place them in an old blue bowl, for my sake 
(and the sake of our Indian uncle, whom we had al- 
most forgotten). 



84 



QfiW Pose(^ 




TJ OSES more than any other flower excuse the 
*■ ^ formal garden ; in fact by their stateliness and 
pride, they seem to demand an exclusive spot laid 
out in beds of beautiful line. 

A rose garden enclosed by a hedge really seems 
the ideal, yet a hedge is such a hungry thing it gen- 
erally eats all the richness of the neighboring soil, 
and roses need all the undivided food there is to be 
had. 

If you desire a hedge, though, you can have the 
most beautiful, appropriate and impenetrable one 
made of rugosa roses — the Sir Thomas Lipton 
(white), Rosa Rugosa (red) and New Century 
(pink). 

These planted a foot apart will by their vigor- 
ous growth in two years make a hedge which neither 
small boy nor animal can penetrate. They are per- 

87 



LQ's MaLe * !o&er CarJen 

fectly hardy, needing no winter protection; their 
single blossoms are rarely beautiful and their red 
pips look very gay in winter. 

For the design of the rose garden it always seems 
safe to begin with a centre circle, then one can hardly 
go wrong; paths leading from the circle at right and 
left angles suggest themselves readily, cutting the re- 
maining spaces into attractive slices of earth pie, 
both narrow and fat. 

At the top of my rose garden, facing east, I 
placed the red bed on the right, the white one on the 
left ; at the bottom of the garden, the yellow bed on 
the right, the pink on the left. The centre circular 
bed is not planted with roses at all, but filled with 
tulips, hyacinths, narcissi, and crocuses to divert the 
eye in spring while the roses are getting their June 
trousseaus ready. Later on this bed is filled with an 
all-summer bloom by gay little Phlox Drummondi, 
bordered by the blue dwarf ageratum. 

The rose garden extension belonging to the garden 
partner has now grown to greater dimensions than 
my original rose kingdom — a proof of the wiles of 
woman. 

This annex consists of two long outer beds the 
length of the entire rose domain, with two shorter 

88 



inner beds flanked by short crosswise beds at each 
end. Thus our rose garden has a very hybrid com- 
position which really looks much prettier on ground 
than it does on paper. 

The chief advantage of the plan is not so much in 
its unique landscape gardening as in the many chances 
it gives for arches at the meeting of paths ; at each of 
these places we have climbing roses which make an 
almost continuous canopy over the head when one 
strolls around. 

There are places for thirty-six climbers and these 
quite hide the design of the kingdom except when 
we stand on the tree-covered hill to the east of the 
garden. These trees give a partial shade which pro- 
tects the roses from the sun's greatest heat, while 
they are still far enough removed so their roots can- 
not rob the garden of its strength. 

For the white climbers there are the White Rambler 
and White Star; for the pink, Lynch's hybrid, 
Dorothy Perkins, Baltimore Belle (an old-fashioned 
rose), Lady Gay and Debutante. 

There are fortunately several beautiful yellow 
climbers including Keystone, Evergreen Gem (which 
will climb if forced to) and Aglaia (the yellow 
rambler). The red is supplied by the Empress of 

89 



Eh Me * 0a#cr (S^rJen 

China (generally known as the Apple-blossom rose), 
and red Memorial Queen and Hiawatha (a beautiful 
single crimson with pure white eye). 

To have a blooming success with climbers neces- 
sitates careful pruning, which means first owning a 
pair of thorn-proof gloves, the sharpest of pruning 
shears, and a stepladder. 

Immediately after the blooming season of such 
climbers as Dorothy Perkins, White Rambler, etc., 
which only have their one great yearly fling, it is 
important to cut away all the old wood on which this 
wealth of bloom has occurred; this is no small job 
and requires much callousness of heart, for it often 
means taking away over half the vine. 

We are, however, soon repaid by the prodigious 
new growth which immediately shoots up from the 
roots, more than taking the place of all removed. 
It is on these new branches that next season's blos- 
soms will appear. We save all we can from the trim- 
mings for cuttings. 

From one thriving Dorothy Perkins you may in 
two years get enough sons to have a standing army of 
Perkins guarding your entire dynasty. 

As to the best mode of treating cuttings I am go- 
ing to quote from my mother's old garden book, 

90 



" The Southern Florist," published way back in 
1860. 

" The cuttings should be from four to six inches 
long according to the thickness of stem. Cut with 
a very sharp knife below the lower bud (or eye), 
commencing on the side opposite that bud, and slant- 
ing downward. In choosing a situation for the cut- 
ting plantation select the north side of house or 
fence. Make the soil, as far as the cuttings reach, 
of pure sand, the cleaner the better. Thrust a 
garden trowel down slanting, in order that the cut- 
ting may lean toward the south ; insert the cutting so 
that the bud next to the top bud will be just under 
the surface of soil, turning the upper bud to the 
north. 

" Holding the cutting with left hand, thrust in the 
trowel on the north of cutting, and prize it while in 
the ground against the cutting; this will pack the 
sand tightly against cutting. Withdrawing the 
trowel, fill in gap with ordinary earth. 

" Plant the row of cuttings from east to west, 
six inches apart. Scatter charcoal dust around 
them, then cover with short straw being careful to 
leave the ends of cuttings uncovered. Water every 
evening after sundown until the cuttings show signs 

91 



I£H MtLc * Mo&er <^*>rJeti 

of growth. After they begin to send out shoots, se- 
lect the one of most vigorous growth cutting off all 
other shoots as they appear. Transplant when one 
year old." 

There is another way in which you may also greatly 
multiply your roses; take one of the new long shoots 
of either climber or bush rose, and bend down care- 
fully ; at mid-length the branch, scrape away about 
an inch of the green bark on the under side of branch ; 
bury this under three inches of soil, then place a 
stone on top to hold the branch firmly under ground. 
This will leave about a foot or more of branch be- 
3'ond the stone. The scraped portion will send down 
roots of its own, and as the branch still draws its 
nourishment from the parent bush, it does not have 
to depend on its own tender roots for sustenance. 

When the new roots are firmly established, cut 
with sharp knife immediately beyond them on the 
mother end of branch, and you then have a new vine 
of even larger size and greater vigor than two-year- 
old purchased roses. 

So many people have said to me, " We would like 
to have rose gardens but we don't know what kind of 
roses to order, nor which ones to choose from the 
thousands offered in catalogues." 

92 



IS's MJce * Mo&er <&**4 



en 



As in the case of all the rest of this book, I am 
not writing for the professional who knows much 
more than I, but for other garden lovers and strug- 
gling amateurs like myself whom I hope to help a 
little by what I have found out by my own personal 
association with the flowers. The names of roses 
which I give are those which I have grown success- 
fully and found beautiful. 

The hybrid perpetuals are hardy in any reason- 
able latitude and need no protection whatever. 

The hybrid teas which I shall mention we have 
managed to save through our severe winters by straw 
covering, sheath-gown style, permitting the air to 
circulate about the limbs. 

Of the hybrid teas, there are Betty (a relative of 
the Killarney), which is copper and rose; Joseph 
Hill, salmon gold and pink; the scarlet Richmond, 
so popular as a cut flower ; Peggy, a yellow with red- 
dish blush; Queen Beatrice, a wonderful pink, and 
a rose for the control of which one rosarian paid 
thirty thousand dollars; Dean Hole, a salmon shaded 
with carmine; Virginia R. Coxe, one of the best 
crimsons ; an entire set of the Cochet roses ; Etoile 
de France, crimson; Franz Deegan, a rich orange; 
La France, which of course everyone knows; the 

93 



19% IWee * Mo&er (JWJen 

White La France (Augustine Guinoisseau) ; Madame 
Abel Chateney, a carmine which is unusually hardy; 
Madame Jules Grolez, cherry red. 

The hybrid perpetuals are: Baroness Rothschilds, 
pink ; Anne de Diesbach, carmine ; Captain Christy, 
pink ; Glory of the Exposition of Brussels, blackish 
red; Jean Liabaud, another deep red; Giant of Bat- 
tles, a light crimson of peculiarly old timey fra- 
grance; Mrs. R. G. Sharman Crawford, a gold- 
medalled pink ; Margaret Dickson, a white of loveliest 
form; the reliable old white Madame Plantier; the 
well-known pink Paul Neyron ; Ulrich Brunner, red 
(of great beauty of bud); and last of all Gloire 
Lyonnaise, the most beautiful rose in our garden. 

Our one garden extravagance is ordering new two- 
year-old teas each spring to take the place of winter- 
killed ones, for the tea is not hardy north of New 
York. 

The most beautiful ones we have tried so far are: 
Enfant de Lyon, rosy cream with copper tints ; 
Devoniensis, cream with pinkish centre (a great fa- 
vorite in the south) ; Souvenir de Pierre Notting, 
apricot blended with rose; Helen Good, pale yellow 
and rose; Marie Lambert, cream white; Marie van 
Houtte, cream tinged with lemon; Papa Gontier, 

94 



IS's FUce * Mo&er CwJeu 

crimson ; Safrano, }'ellow, with shadings of orange 
and fawn ; Sunrise, which has all the tones of its 
name ; the Bride, one of the purest white roses ; 
Bridesmaid, dark pink; Duchess de Brabant, which 
I have lauded in the preceding chapter; and For- 
tune's Yellow, sulphur which shows copper tints as 
the days grow chilly in fall. 

Almost all rose catalogues warn one against pur- 
chasing the monster dormant roses offered for $1.25 
a dozen by many department stores, as they declare 
them to be worn-out roses which have been forced by 
florists for cut flowers and then thrown out by them 
when superannuated. The catalogues also further 
declare these cheap roses to be budded on Holland 
stock, the budded part of which will in a short time 
die, while only suckers from the original stock will 
be left on your hands. In justice to those rose phi- 
lanthropists, the department store keepers, I feel it 
is only fair I should refute the catalogue scandal. 
The majority of the large dormant bushes offered 
are hybrid perpetuals and these roses are seldom, if 
ever, used by florists for cut flowers — teas and hy- 
brid teas furnish the roses handled by them. 

With three dozen department store roses I started 
my original stock of hybrid perpetuals and they have 

95 



ISH Mb * Mov<W <WJen 

positively proven the largest, healthiest, most re- 
liable roses in my garden. 

They were purchased and planted in early spring 
and bloomed heavily the first summer. In the four 
years since their planting only one bush has shown 
signs of suckering, and after amputating those 
shoots a few times they grew discouraged and ceased 
to appear. 

It is very important to soak these dormant roses in 
a tub of water for a few days, as they are apt to be 
a bit dry from long continuance out of ground. 
Then trim with sharp knife all bruised, wilted, or 
torn portions of roots, and all darkened ends of 
branches. 

For quick results I most gleefully recommend them 
to all beginners who wish their rose garden to look 
fully grown the first season, and to be filled with 
bloom all June. The only thing I can say against 
them is that they do not always turn out to be what 
their labels declare ; but so long as they are beautiful 
I don't mind. When a dozen women, all having 
rose hysteria at once, begin to claw and dispute over 
clumps of roses in a department store's damp cellar, 
it would be a miracle indeed if the poor roses could 
hang on to their own names. 

96 



At present we have altogether over three hundred 
roses of all kinds, but we are by no means satisfied; 
once started on the downward path of rose idolatry 
there is no limit to one's excesses. I keep on inviting 
to my garden new roses to which I've never been 
formally introduced, thereby making new friends 
each season. 

I suppose you have noticed that in all these pages 
I have not mentioned the Crimson Rambler. I hope 
you hate it as I do. It is the most diseased, bug- 
infested, shabby, mildewed, common rose in the world. 
Our one Crimson Rambler has been sent to our " penal 
colony." 

It's a good scheme to have a penal colony in the 
garden ; take some miserable spot — not the Sahara 
desert, but first cousin to it, and there deport flowers 
which misbehave, cause scandals, are hopelessly dis- 
eased, or persist in dressing in magenta, 
satisfying way of committing euthanasia, 
a floral coward I can't kill a flower outright, but if 
I put it in the penal colony and it dies — well, I'm 
not to blame, and the flower is probably happier. At 
present we have banished to this spot a very snarly 
rose brought me by a neighbor, some disorderly 
rockets, magenta hardy phlox, orange day lilies, a 

97 



hideous green rose some mistaken rosarian sent me 
(I suppose as a curiosity), and our abhorred Crim- 
son Rambler. 



98 



bufe 




bulk^> 




^m : rr^> kJk&& 



\ CURIOUS quality of flowers is that whichever 
**■ *• one you are talking about, planting, or holding 
in your hand, that flower for the time being seems 
the sweetest in the world. 

When I was writing of roses at such happy length 
I thought, " Surely this is the loveliest of all sub- 
jects," yet here I am thinking the same of bulbs, 
and I haven't the decency to even feel disloyal or 
fickle. 

When we plant the bulbs in autumn we are a bit 
gorged with the fanfare of annuals and perennials, 
and it's such an utter change to turn the thoughts 
to crocuses and hyacinths. 

Then later on, in March, when the mind is thaw- 
ing after winter chill, we are so flower hungry and 

101 



IS's FUce * Flower (S^rjen 

impatient we feel we can never wait for the days 
to grow warm enough to remove our roses' winter 
flannels — then all of a sudden one day we stumble 
on the white cup of a crocus, and straightway we 
forget the roses and our impatience, and spend each 
day hunting for another and another crocus, until 
all of a sudden the whole lawn is dappled with 
lavender, white and gold. 

Then still a little later, our hearts are chiming in 
tune to the hyacinth bells, we sip mental nectar from 
the tulip chalice, and whiff the fragrance of the nar- 
cissus, and fall in love with life all over again. 

For the overture preceding the real opera of spring 
we must engage thousands of crocus musicians, and 
in order to be ahead of other garden impresarios we 
should get our order in before July 1st, for these and 
all other bulbs. 

We can afford many crocuses for in mixed colors 
they are to be had for three dollars and fifty cents a 
thousand. (I always like to think in thousands, es- 
pecially where flowers are concerned.) To insure 
having lots of early spring sunshine scattered over 
the lawn we should have a generous supply of the 
giant yellow ones. 

As soon as they arrive in the fall we will shave 
102 



19% FUoe *» Plover <£™4n 

the lawn so we may start with a clear field, then 
taking an apronful of crocuses stand in the centre of 
the lawn and make believe we are merry-go-rounds, 
spinning about in circles, tossing the bulbs as we 
whirl. This distributes them in a more impromptu, 
artistic and natural manner than we could ever delib- 
erately plan. 

The grass being clipped close it is easy to see the 
small bulbs; then it is only a matter of sharpening 
a stick with which to punch the holes. Starting at 
one end of the lawn go back and forth on all fours, 
making a jab in the grass three inches deep with 
stick, then push the crocuses in just where they have 
fallen. But do be sure to notice first which is the 
head and which the tail of the crocus, for it would 
be horrible to make them stand on their heads all 
winter. 

If you have a few dozen left over, use them to 
border a bed of tulips or hyacinths, then save out 
a few, say fourteen, and walk into the garden, shut 
your eyes and stick them in any old place, just for a 
private surprise next spring. 

I am a great believer in getting mixed things, be- 
cause one can always get them cheaper, and besides, 
one thereby chances to get many beautiful varieties 

103 



19^ fLLe ^ Mo&er (Ervrlen 

one would otherwise miss; therefore I always get 
mixed hyacinths, which are to be had for three dollars 
a hundred (single) and four dollars a hundred (dou- 
ble). For some especially fine place, say the cen- 
tre circular bed of the rose garden, please get a 
dozen single light blue Lord Byron, which have the 
most gigantic spikes of flowers. Next in beauty is 
the salmon pink Cavaignac. 

For spirituelle beauty there are the precious little 
Roman hyacinths. Other remarkably beautiful kinds 
are the Buff Beauty; La Plaie d'Or, a pale yellow; 
Daylight, an orange; Maria Cornelia, the earliest 
light pink ; Hein Roozen, a very large white ; La Vic- 
toire, the most brilliant red, and Sir Henry Barclay, 
which is so dark it might almost be called the black 
hyacinth. 

These in addition to the many colors to be found 
in the cheaper mixed ones will give a wonderful col- 
lection. After the third year dig and separate the 
bulbs, then make the bulb beds exceedingly rich with 
fully decayed manure. 

Have plenty of sand ready for the replanting, for 
in the case of all bulbs it is most necessary to incase 
them in sand, both for drainage and to prevent the 
manure rotting them by accidental contact. 

104 



Replant the larger bulbs in the beds made ready 
in the garden proper, then take all the wee children 
to an especial nursery prepared for them in the vege- 
table garden; by the following season they will be 
sufficiently grown to be permitted to make their de- 
but, when they should bloom, even though modestly. 

The most exciting of all tulips is the Gesneriana 
spathulata — not because of its spectacular name, 
but because of its history and its transcendent 
beauty. This is the tulip which turned the Holland- 
ers quite mad — for all those phlegmatic eaters of 
three hundred and sixty-five cold, hard-boiled eggs a 
year, sold or mortgaged all their terrestrial posses- 
sions to gamble in the Gesneriana stock. 

One bulb sometimes brought — I forget just what, 
but it went way up into the thousand dollars some- 
where ; and Gesneriana was even quoted regularly on 
the London stock exchange, as if it were a gold mine, 
or transcontinental railroad. 

When the corner in Gesneriana broke, thousands of 
Dutchmen " went broke " too, and as great a panic 
spread through the land as if the dikes had all 
broken. No wonder the spathulata holds its head 
so high with such a history as this. It stands on a 
stem twenty-four inches high, and is of the clearest 

105 



scarlet, with a glittering eye of peacock blue. To 
look at it in the midday sun makes the head reel. 
From thousands of dollars for a single bulb, in the 
heydaj'- of their infancy, they have become so reason- 
able anyone may have them to-day for the meek sum 
of one dollar and seventy-five cents a hundred. 
And yet they speak of the good old days ! There 
are also other Gesnerianas, including a yellow, and a 
white edged with pink. 

For the " dead queer " tulips, take the Bizarres, 
which look as if they were Easter eggs colored by a 
freakish child who dribbed the color on instead of 
dipping the egg in the dye. Of these the prettiest are 
the Violettes, which are marbled purple and white. 

The Parrot tulips are equally strange, if not more 
queer than the Bizarres. They are most appropri- 
ately named, for their color is plagiarized from the 
parrot's own feathers. Not content with possessing 
such weird, birdlike tints, these tulips grow just as 
queerly as they can, flinging their blossoms at every 
grotesque angle, never standing upright like any 
other sensible tulip. But although they are as lack- 
ing in mentality as the parrot itself, they are yet 
among the most desirous of all their family, and 

106 




TALL SINGLE TULIPS AND THE 
ECCENTRIC PARROTS 



their fantastic beauty may be added to the garden 
for a very modest sum. 

The double tulips of long ago were despised, and 
perhaps rightly so, but such improvements have been 
made in them, that now many quite rival the peony 
in beauty and size. 

The Boule de Neige is the largest double white ; 
other fine types are Brimstone Beauty, a rosy yellow ; 
the Tournesol, a wonderful yellow ; Raphael, largest 
pink; and Vuurbaak, vermilion; these are all early 
blooming. 

Of the late double ones, blooming in May, the best 
we've tried are Yellow Rose, gold colored; La Belle 
Alliance, a feathery white and blue ; and Blue Flag, 
purplish-blue. 

If you are a greedy lover of tulips, you will prob- 
ably want a hundred of the extra fine single ones, 
which can make you feel like a multi-millionaire at an 
outlay of only one dollar. It is well to order an 
equal quantity of both late and early kinds to extend 
the tulip festival even into early June. 

The tulips form their progeny under the old bulb, 
and if these children are not removed every third 
year the old bulb becomes so weakened the bloom will 

107 



often cease. The small bulbs should be treated just 
like the hyacinth juniors. 

It is best to make all bulb beds higher in the mid- 
dle, so the water is easily shed and does not stand 
to freeze too much in winter. We mulch with ma- 
nure in December, then cover with litter such as 
the lopped-off stalks of chrysanthemums and the 
other perennials. 

Of all the narcissus family my favorite is the 
Poet's, with its pheasant eye. 

One pleasant thing about the narcissi is that they 
do not positively need redigging so often as other 
bulbs, yet to obtain greatest florescence I remove those 
in beds every five years. If they are naturalized on 
the banks of lawn or stream, they should of course 
remain undisturbed. The imperative thing, as in the 
case of all other bulbs, is not to cut them down before 
the foliage is quite yellow which denotes the full ma- 
turity of the bulb. 

The Paper White narcissus, so popular as a cut 
flower, is not considered hardy for outdoor culture in 
cold climates, yet I have succeeded in growing them 
in the garden by covering very deep with manure, 
then putting evergreens over that and placing boards 
tight together over the boughs. The boards are not 

108 



Let's Bkke *> flower (Swden 

removed until April, and the evergreens not until I 
find the noses are above ground. 

As you've probably often heard, it is not the freez- 
ing which kills things but the thawing, so all winter 
covering and mulching is for the purpose of protec- 
tion from the sun, not the snow and ice. 

Other beautiful narcissi are the double Poet's, 
alba plena odorata; orange Phoenix, double white and 
orange; Barri Maurice Vilmorin, cream white with 
red cup ; and Burbidgii Falstaff, white with lemon 
yellow cup. 

The Emperor daffodil, Von Sion and Welsh daffo- 
dil (the Incomparabilis Sir Watkins) are the best we 
have grown. Of the smaller bulbs, Chionodoxa gi- 
gantea and Scilla campanulata carulea furnish us 
with light and dark tones of blue. The Scilla Si- 
birica (sky-blue) blooms at the same time as that 
lovely forerunner of the spring, the snowdrop. 

Some hoar March morning we will be awakened 
by the wee groping chirp of a robin threading the 
darkness ; though the thermometer may have regis- 
tered only twenty degrees above zero the day before, 
all material proofs of winter are forgotten. It had 
not occurred to us the day before to search for a 
flower in the hostile out-of-doors, but to-day, with 

109 



a note of gold still sounding in the ear and heart, 
we dance over the snow, stoop, and confidently brush 
it aside, expecting not a miracle — only the fulfil- 
ment of the robin's prophecy. Sure enough, there 
before us, awakening from its bed of white, is the 
still drowsy head of the snowdrop — small bell-like 
head, whose tinkle is only to be heard by the fairies 
and the friends of the fairies. 



110 



t,mi rr< 



overs' 



J 




owevjr 



[ CAN never be thankful enough that nature be- 
gan the trees of our Wilderness garden annex 
so many years before we ourselves were planned. 
Here we found, ready-made, great pines, large and 
small hemlocks, Italian-like cedars, birches draped 
with wild grapevine, poplars, sumach and bitter- 
sweet. Under these were treasures of columbine, 
hepatica, violets and bloodroot. It seems almost a 
necessity to have a natural stage setting of matured 
and half -grown trees for a garden, for perfunctory 
beds of casual flowers do not constitute a garden. 
Then, too, the arrangement, composition of Nature, 
is almost infallible — Whistler to the contrary. 
Study a bit of wild brushwood or sequestered forest, 
then go home in chastened spirit to try to humbly 
follow out the natural. Notice how the goldenrod 
and purple aster intermingle. Could anything be 
better art? 

113 



In the middle break in our Wilderness — the Inter- 
mezzo, so to speak — we have made a great irregular 
mass of dozens of goldenrod, dozens of wild purple 
asters, sneeze-weeds, black-eyed Susans and ferns, 
with a border of hepatica for early spring praise. 
It is our greatest gardening achievement. Purple 
and gold, gold and purple — even the words are 
magical. 

With the blue-green pines before and behind, the 
blue sky overhead, and the green grass and pine- 
needled ground leading up to the purple and gold, 
it is sheer poetry. 

Then take the bank near it, sloping from pine, 
birch and poplars down to the country road, what 
more appropriate flower for this spot than the dande- 
lion? Pick a dandelion reverently, study it care- 
fully — was there ever greater perfection of form, 
more embodied sunlight? In its ghost stage it 
reaches the spiritual. 

Walk through a shadow-dim forest and arrive sud- 
denly upon a clump of blooming rhododendron, it 
takes the breath away with its unpremeditated won- 
der. That is the element we need to achieve through- 
out all our garden, the unexpected. A dear old lady 
trailed after me through our Wilderness and after 

114 



she had breathed " Oh ! " innumerable times over sud- 
denly revealed beauty, she said, " Your garden is 
the Garden of Surprise." If you have a clump of 
evergreens, let the path wind sinuously through, 
bringing you out suddenly on, say, a clump of shim- 
mering white mountain laurel, and I assure you it 
will make you gasp with delight. 

A very little girl once visited our garden and 
afterward begged her mother to take her back to 
" the place of the many little paths." 

We haven't a broad walk in the Wilderness, be- 
cause to begin with we only had trails, half-hidden 
paths where we had to push through tangles to find 
some beautiful spot; so the paths remain as irregular 
and winding as if we were cows. Then, too, I don't 
want strangers to know how to get about my garden 
alone. The stranger's feet step on things. I pre- 
fer to lead, and have the path so narrow visitors 
are prohibited from walking abreast, having no 
choice but to humbly follow the gardener. 

Paths mean intimacy, not publicity. The path is 
a trail in which to wander, leading the imagination 
gropingly with promise of mystery. And a garden 
must have material for mystery. We felt this so 
convincingly we refused to discover all our Wil- 

115 



derness the first year of possession. There is a 
rocky promontory near the ravine, crowned by a great 
hemlock, secreted by wild grapevines and wild roses, 
and dotted over by hundreds of cedars; this do- 
main we selected to be our " forbidden land." We 
were placed on our honor not to put foot on it for 
a year, and I assure you its mysteries grew ever 
greater until I came to believe it to be the strong- 
hold of trolls and other magical creatures. When 
the j^ear passed, the habit of not intruding had 
grown upon us to such a degree we no longer cared 
to trespass but preferred to leave its secrets to the 
trolls, rabbits and birds. 

We can well afford to spare this bit of nature for 
the imagination to dwell on unsated by exploration, 
for there are many other equally wild portions of 
the garden in which we may feel as unfettered as 
Pan himself. There is the birchwood tangle where 
we never work disturbingly with garden tool, but only 
go to sit quietly on the ground in the shadows, to 
attend the song services of our birds. 

We guard as heirlooms the precious bits of wild 
beauty which were our legacy from nature. 

Every ramble in the neighboring woods adds more 
treasures to our horde. By always carrying a trowel 

116 



and basket we are prepared to invite any beauti- 
ful thing we see to make its home with us. Thus 
we have carpeted with wild violets all the damp, sun- 
less ground on the north side of the house where 
grass would not grow. I know of a beautiful place 
in the south where the many large trees in front of 
the house made it impossible to have a lawn; wild 
violets solved the problem there. They were planted 
so as to cover the entire ground right up to the tree 
roots ; even when not blooming the violets make a 
rich, dark, velvety surface, which never needs mow- 
ing. 

The fall is the ideal time to remove wild things, 
and it is then that the garden itself demands less, 
the days are cooler and the world so full of color 
one feels a greater inclination to take long tramps ; 
the fields are aflame with goldenrod, the roadsides 
glowing with sumach, each fence and old post trans- 
figured by the crimson creepers, and deep in the 
forest shadows shines the beacon light of the dog- 
wood. 

Poring over catalogues and the ordering of seed is 
indeed an exciting and alluring phase of gardening, 
but it seems prosaic indeed compared to the delight- 
ful circumstances under which we become the pos- 

117 



IS* FUo> ^ E>&er- (g-wJen 

sessors of wild flowers. Money alone never seems 
to make a thing ours. The clothes we buy do not 
wholly become ours until we have worn them often 
and they have assumed the wrinkles indicative of our 
habits of work and rest. 

The plants and seed we purchase do not seem ours 
until we have made them so by our loving service 
and care. I do not love flowers in the abstract; I 
love only those flowers which I have guarded and 
brought to fulfilment. Roses displayed in a shop 
window seldom interest me beyond a passing glance, 
for they are not my roses — I have contributed noth- 
ing to their life. 

It is particularly because we do not exchange coin 
for the wild flowers that they hold such a peculiar 
significance. It is as though Nature held them out 
in her arms, a gift to all who seek her lovingly. 

So when I pass near my wild things there is ever 
a reminiscence connected with them, such as the day 
we tramped miles through a great hemlock forest, un- 
devastated by axe or fire, following along an erratic 
little brook until it opened out into a pool where 
muskrats made their home, guarded by gnarled old 
willows. Here, spread over a sweet, wide meadow, 
were thousands of wild irises making the ground as 

118 



IS'S Elbe *> Mo&er* (SwJen 

richly beautiful as a queen's royal robe; and here, 
too, we found our buttercups. 

Another tramp up the precipitous sides of a fire- 
scorched mountain side, brought us to the secluded 
home of the arbutus, and a sight of " the fox's 
den O!" 

Every quest of bloodroot and Solomon's seal means 
an adventure — the glimpse of shy hunted creatures, 
the happy comradeship of squirrels, the song of the 
Bobwhite. 

If you have ever been in the country near Wash- 
ington you know the beauty of the Judas trees col- 
oring all the landscape on the wooded banks of the 
Potomac with their purplish-pink boughs. An 
April jaunt to the Potomac's shores procured several 
of these trees for our garden, and they have proven 
quite hardy in the more northern clime. 

Some of our beautiful mountain laurels (the na- 
tive kalmla) were brought home by us from the Berk- 
shire Hills and I never pass them without reliving 
a day when we were invited to take a " little walk " 
by a friend who had a vague memory of a trout 
stream where he had delightedly fished out of season 
in } r outh's lawless days. 

We started immediately after breakfast with per- 
119 



19* PUce * Ma&er CarJen 

feet faith in his memory. Soon we were far from 
any human trail, battling through impenetrable 
brush, going knee-deep in the trunks of fallen trees 
which looked intact until stepped upon, rolling on 
hidden loose stones, down mountain sides jagged 
with ice snapped limbs. On we plodded for hoary 
hours and not one of the party threw that brook 
up to our friend — no, we were too busy just keep- 
ing alive. About the time I wanly thought, " Per- 
haps the sun is setting on civilization," then won- 
dered if perchance we had really walked through the 
night and maybe it was to-morrow, I caught the one 
good leg I had left in a vine and rolled several miles, 
mostly head down ; suddenly I came to and felt some- 
thing damp — lo and behold ! I had Ponce de Leon-ed 
the long lost trout brook of our friend's guilty 
youth ! 

The rest of the party arrived by various acrobatic 
feats, and then we really began to work; the hours 
before were mere teething rings compared to the 
hours which followed. It ceased to be walking — it 
was hopping and leaping when we weren't being 
hauled out of the stream. 

But to tell the truth that trout brook was all our 
friend had said, and more. It is worth your start- 

120 



ing off to-day to find — find as we did by walking 
toward nowhere, ignoring the compass and trusting 
in fate. 

It was the wildest trout brook that ever flowed 
from a man's memory ; it dashed, swirled, laughed and 
sobbed through a mountain whose echoes had hitherto 
answered only the voices of wildest creatures. Across 
the stream, felled by some Titanic storm of fifty 
or more years before, were giant tree trunks. On 
all sides every trace of ground was hidden by a tan- 
gle of millions of mountain laurel. And in the twi- 
light shadows under great stones flashed the 
speckled trout. In the far forest cracked a bough, 
and the unknown voice of some animal came to us 
on the wind. On, on, on we followed the brook, and 
when the light was dying and we were too, there 
suddenly loomed the ruins of an old mill; by its si- 
lent gray wheel stood two boys with the eyes of 
startled fauns. They gave one frightened look and 
disappeared in the brush, but we followed with a rush 
and came out upon a little clearing where stood an 
unpainted cabin whose walls were almost covered with 
the drying skins of wild animals. A sad-eyed woman 
sat on the rude porch, three frightened children cling- 
ing to her. If we had been bears she would probably 

121 



have felt no surprise, but she had long given up ex- 
pecting human beings. 

At last she broke her silence and gave us directions 
for our return, leading us through a cornfield which 
the deer had trampled down the night before, to an 
old abandoned road, by following which we finally 
reached our own farmhouse, pumpkin pie and bed. 

If I had not held on to my laurel all day perhaps 
I wouldn't have fallen into the stream so often, but 
the falls are past and the kalmia will make me happy 
every spring of my life. 

The few closed gentians which now live on the 
banks of our marsh were brought home from Con- 
necticut after a wonderful visit to another friend 
with whom we followed another brook, a quiet, Puri- 
tanical, gentle brook which meandered through pen- 
sive New England hills, on whose banks one could 
walk at ease and meditatively, sitting down to rest 
in the embrace of a watery arm on a lawnlike bank. 
And we sat down frequently, for the friend chanced 
to be a great author who had chosen this idyllic way 
of reading to us the manuscript of a just finished 
book. 

A chapter read aloud, then a mile of brook; an- 
other chapter, then baked beans served on autumn 

122 



leaves ; another chapter, then more brook, until just as 
the sun was setting and we turned our faces homeward 
to read the last chapters before the great fireplace 
of the " House of Low Ceilings," I espied the clump 
of closed gentians and made them mine, mine along 
with the memories of a book heard under circum- 
stances which made it seem the greatest pastoral 
ever written. And as I dug the gentians the author 
remembered an old legend which told of their bloom- 
ing on a certain ancient hill where there was enacted 
the greatest of all human tragedies, when men put 
to death the gentlest of all men. The flowers gazed 
with sadness on that Crucifixion, then closed their 
eyes forever more. 

So beyond all other flowers of the garden, the wild 
ones are those most haloed by associations — asso- 
ciations which can even make a Lord Bishop of a 
mere " Jack-in-the-pulpit." 



123 



On Aids & Vines 




& Vines 



T I \HE spring flowering shrubs -such as lilacs, sy- 
■*■ ringas, deutzias and spireas should be trimmed 
immediately after their blooming period. 

Prune the lilac branches where the flower heads 
have been, back to main limb, and take out all 
branches which rub each other. All shrubs do bet- 
ter if not permitted to bush too thickly, so trim out 
congested parts that sun may permeate and the air 
circulate freely. 

We always leave the lilac root suckers alone in 
the spring, permitting them to develop during the 
summer; then in fall they are removed by pulling 
up violently (not digging) ; the torn ends of root 
are then trimmed, and we thus have many new lilacs 
to transplant to all parts of the garden. 

One can never have too many lilacs ; somehow they 
create a home feeling more than does any other shrub. 

127 



I9's Me * Mo&er OrvA 



en 



Didn't you envy the German Elizabeth her mile 
long lilac hedge? What a wondrous sight it must 
be in spring! 

In trimming spireas, take out all the old wood 
which has held bloom; the new growth will then 
spring up with tremendous rapidity and many more 
flowers next season will be your reward. 

The herbaceous blue spirea is very pretty, grow- 
ing to about two feet in height. It is quite hardy if 
given a winter mulch. (This spirea of course needs 
no trimming, as it dies down to the ground each 
fall.) 

I clip the white deutzia (gracilis) with the hedge 
shears, as it is too great a job to trim the millions 
of dried flower heads individually. Each summer a 
fourth of the old wood is cut away. 

The pink deutzia, to be at its best, needs to have 
every bit of its old wood removed after its midsummer 
blooming. 

There is a beautiful treelike shrub much grown 
in the middle south which will also thrive even 
where there is a moderate amount of snow and frost; 
in South Carolina it is called Crepe Myrtle, in the 
island of Saba, Queen of the Garden, in Bermuda, 

128 



Queen of the Shrubs. I have never seen it listed in 
catalogues under any recognizable title, and I am ig- 
norant of its botanical name. 

In July it is a mass of crepe flowers of the tone 
of the heart of a watermelon, and has a mellow per- 
fume. There are also other varieties having ugly 
shades of magenta flowers, as well as a few rare ones 
of exquisite white. In the autumn its leaves turn 
orange and carmine. 

For the new home, where you desire the quick ef- 
fect of shrubs while waiting for the real shrubs of 
slower growth to develop, there is the herbaceous 
hibiscus. The loveliest variety has pale pink blos- 
soms with lemon yellow centres, the flowers being as 
large as a tea-plate. 

Altheas make wonderful hedges, though slow of 
growth and needing much early trimming to produce 
thickness about the roots. Growing singly, if 
pruned to one trunk they will attain great height. 
In an old country garden near me there is a pink 
althea reaching the second story window. The 
Jeanne d'Arc is a very fine new strain bearing dou- 
ble flowers of perfect whiteness. 

Nothing is more beautiful than the hardy azaleas. 
129 



E3* M* t» Mo&er CwJen 

Of course in the north we must be satisfied with 
more or less miniature bushes, for we cannot have 
the variety which grows to tree height in the south. 
The most wonderful flower spectacle in our whole 
country is the azaleas in full bloom in " Magnolia 
Gardens," near Charleston, exceeding even the cherry 
blossom festival in Japan. Here miles of avenues 
bordered with very old and gigantic azaleas of ever} r 
hue, make a gorgeousness of color bewildering to the 
senses. 

In the north we may grow several varieties out- 
doors by covering with straw in winter, as for rose 
protection. These are the native arborescens; the 
Ghent, growing to eighteen inches; mollis, a rather 
dwarf species, and Vaseja. Thejr are to be had in 
white, orange, rosy purple, shrimp pink, cerise, light 
pink and salmon. 

All gardens should include the old-fashioned 
" sweet shrub," called " calycanthus " by the nursery- 
men, apparently to confuse us. The bush bearing 
snuff -brown flowers is the best known, but there is 
another rarer, much lovelier kind called the banana 
shrub, which has blossoms of a pale cream yellow 
and of a sweetness beyond description. Gathered 
and placed in a thin muslin bag and put among one's 

130 




ARCH AND TRELLIS ARE PAINTED 
A SOFT GRAY GREEN 



handkerchiefs, they will retain their sweetness for 
weeks. 

The Cydonia Japonica or Japan quince, known 
familiarly as burning bush, is a most brilliant ac- 
quisition to any garden. There is another variety 
bearing white blossoms tinged with pink which are 
almost identical with apple blossoms in form and 
color. 

Golden bells (Forsythia) should always be given 
a trellis support, for it is such a feminine plant it 
needs a strong arm to sustain its willowy branches. 
It is sometimes made to pretend it is a vine, but grown 
in this way it is seldom satisfactory, as it must be 
constantly tied, having no tendrils to clasp with, and 
it is apt to look thin and gawky. 

The Scotch broom has all the hardiness of its na- 
tive bleak hills and is as gorgeous as the tender 
genista, so much sold in the florist shops. Genista 
is one of the few golden flowered shrubs, and is val- 
uable for that alone. 

The dwarf Chinese plum having double red flow- 
ers is well worth growing, as are also the dwarf peach, 
crab apple and cherry. 

For sweetness we must have syringa, or mock 
orange. 

131 



19's M*le * Mo&er (&*rJen 

All weigelas are splendid shrubs, especially the 
Conquete, which has unusually large, deep, rose flow- 
ers ; and also the white Candida. 

For evergreen shrubs we may get the Daphne 
Cneorum, a very dwarf trailing plant with pretty 
pink flowers; Leucothoe Catesbaei, a shrub with bell- 
shaped white blossoms; the American holly; Andro- 
meda Japonica, an evergreen from Japan, and 
Berberis stenophylla, which has leaves suggesting the 
holly. (Don't you wish they had named plants 
plain, sensible names, such as Sally, Bill and Bea- 
trice ? ) 

I have left my very heart's love to the last — the 
rhododendron. There is no shrub which can ap- 
proach it in beauty, either when blooming or bare, 
for its leaves, radiating starlike from branches, are 
of a richness and glossiness which would make it 
worth growing even if it never flowered. And the 
blossoms — their beauty is overpowering ! Deepest 
purple, lavender, reddish-purple, white — it would be 
hard to say which is loveliest. 

It is best to get them by the dozen, for to begin 
with one would never satisfy anybody, and they are 
much cheaper in quantity, ranging in price from 
five to ten dollars a dozen. For large estates they 

132 



IS's Make * Plover CwJea 

can be obtained by carload at a still smaller figure 
per thousand. The rhododendron cannot stand the 
sun, therefore it may be planted in the spot so often 
difficult to fill — the north side of the house. Wher- 
ever located take the precaution to protect it in win- 
ter by making a wigwam of evergreens or straw 
about the separate clumps. 

For true splendor rhododendrons should be grown 
in great masses, and on protected hillsides one can 
reproduce in miniature the marvelous effect of the 
North Carolina mountains when covered with blooms 
of the Rhododendron Catawbiense. 

There is nothing which adds such poetry and cozi- 
ness to a garden as vines. What is home without a 
honeysuckle ! 

There is no easier way in literature to make the 
residing place of the heroine instantly fascinating, 
intimate and cosy than to drape the porch with 
honeysuckle. The immortal " vine-clad cottage " 
which plays so great a part in every girl's romantic 
dreams, has, nine cases out of ten, the honeysuckle to 
do the cladding. 

This vine grows so readily and is so multifarious 
it is taken entirely too much for granted. I have 

133 



I9's PUce ^ Ma&er (£ra»Jen 

never become accustomed to its fragrance ; each sum- 
mer it revives within me the positive thrill of sur- 
prise. There is no sweeter vine to grow near the 
house, especially where it may embower a window, 
sending its perfume through all the room. 

Next to the honeysuckle the vine richest in senti- 
ment is the wistaria. I hope sometime to have a 
heroine worthy of a home draped before with wis- 
taria and behind with honeysuckle; then her literary 
popularity would be insured, especially if I add a 
York and Lancaster rose to peep in her latticed case- 
ment betimes o' the morning. 

We have been blarneyed by the catalogued descrip- 
tions of the multijuga wistaria's racemes of flowers 
three feet long, into purchasing one root, and it is a 
fine healthy-looking vine, but as it has not yet bloomed 
I cannot swear to its marvels. The frutescens va- 
riety has the additional charm of blooming at inter- 
vals all summer long. 

The Clematis paniculata is the loveliest of its fam- 
ily, and is amenable to all sorts of uses. In one gar- 
den I know, there is a long bamboo arbor spanning 
a walk fifty feet long; this in summer is completely 
covered with the 'paniculata, making a unique effect 
of pleached alley. 

134 



Ek MJce * flower C^rJen 

Another pretty mode of using it is to take one 
centre pole and at about the height of nine feet, nail 
spokes running out from main pole in wheel shape. 
When the clematis blooms it makes a perfect giant 
umbrella of white, an ideal spot under which to place 
a seat. 

The akebia is not as generally grown as it would 
be if people really knew its beauty and the fragrance 
of its odd, chocolate brown, rubberlike flowers. The 
leaf is rarely beautiful, being an enlarged edition of 
the clover form. 

Bignonia grandiflora is the largest of the trumpet 
flowers, having a salmon bloom of great magnificence. 
It will, if given time, cover anything from an hum- 
ble cot to a cathedral. 

For the first summer in a new home, gourd vines 
will help out wonderfully. The flower is really ex- 
quisite, the leaf form artistic, and the gourds will 
provide one with lots of " bird bungalettes " to hang 
through the garden the following spring, to rent for 
a song to bluebirds and wrens. 



135 



TTje Hotbed & Transplanting 




Tlie rio^bed & Tre^sptanfin^) 



/^"^NE'S personal idiosyncrasies are irresistibly 
^-^ carried into gardening, therefore directions 
given by others serve only as a basis or theme for 
one's own variations. My hotbed is probably unlike 
any other in looks, and yours — even if you are good 
enough to read about mine and try to follow my 
example — will probably be just as distinctive. 

I always love a dress more if it is the reincarna- 
tion of some one or two defunct gowns. The rem- 
nant counter is a response to a fundamental need in 
human nature, feminine human nature — the desire 
to make something useful out of odds and ends. So 
with my inherent love of remnants of course my hot- 
bed was made of odds and ends of old planks saved 
from the wreckage of a chicken house, and in shape 
and size the bed had to conform to the erratic ma- 
terial. The planks were nice thick ones, two-inch 

139 



lumber, and there were enough planks to make a bed 
twelve by eight feet; this proved to be all the space 
we could possibly have used. 

The inside pit was dug f our feet deep and all the 
excavated soil was thrown to one side in a pile. 
When the side plank walls were finally made solid to 
the four corner posts, they were given a generous 
coat of tar to prevent rotting under the soil which 
would eventually cover them. While this tar was 
soaking in, we had the earth dug away four feet in 
depth on the outside of the walls, and after the outer 
planks had been given another coating of tar we 
then brought many barrow loads of pine needles and 
dumped them in the outside trench, trampling the 
needles down as firmly as possible. This was to pre- 
vent the frost forming close to the outer walls of the 
hotbed. After the needles had settled, the pile of 
excavated soil was banked over them and up to the 
very top of the hotbed, the sides of which extended, 
two feet at the top and one foot at the bottom, above 
the original surface of earth. The clay subsoil 
made this bank almost as hard and impervious to 
rain washing as if it had been cement. 

The bed must be built with a slope to the south, 
with a drop of about a foot, so the glass may shed 

140 



IS's Male * MoSrcr CwJen 

the rain and the sun rays reach the seed better. The 
sliding glass frames are a great nuisance and when 
drawn from the bed they are a positive magnet to 
the human foot, and a lure to losing one's equilib- 
rium. Our four sashes lift on hinges. A centre 
board running from north to south divides the bed 
and on each side of this division are two sashes. The 
upper ones lift to the north and are hooked to the 
side of the toolhouse. The lower sashes lift from 
the east and west, are hooked back to back to a pole 
rising from the centre dividing board of original 
framework. This leaves the approach to the bed 
free to the foot when the sashes are raised, so there 
is no way in which the glass can possibly be broken, 
unless, of course, one should be unexpectedly seized 
with an epileptic fit. 

The hotbed proper cost nothing but the mental 
and physical labor involved in making a patch work 
quilt of the old lumber, so the glass frames were the 
only expense. This glass is not puttied like ordinary 
glass windows ; the panes are fitted to lap over each 
other — why, I can't imagine, unless the frost loosens 
putty. 

It is best to make your hotbed in the fall even 
though you are not to use it until the following 

141 



19* PUce a IotSW (g^Jen 

spring, just as an opera must have an overture, and 
one should fall in love before getting married. If 
it is made in the fall then }^ou can be forearmed by 
saving several barrels of fully rotted compost mixed 
with one-fourth sand; these barrels must be kept in 
a toolhouse or cellar out of the reach of freezing. 
If 3 r ou've ever tried the heart-breaking method of 
thawing frozen earth in the hotbed with manure, 
and found in the end that you had only mud in which 
to plant your seed, you'll then appreciate the wis- 
dom of the fall saving of soil. 

In the early spring have two feet of steaming 
manure placed in the bottom of the bed, and let it 
steam for several days ; then empty the barrels of 
compost and sand on top of manure, shut the sashes 
and " let her bile." It will steam tremendously for 
four or five days, then it gets down to regular busi- 
ness of more or less even heat. 

There are nice thermometers to be had to take 
the bed's temperature, and find out when its fever 
has dropped below 90 degrees; then you know it's 
time to go ahead and plant. But as no one ever 
gave me one of these thermometers I have to keep 
sticking my finger down in the soil, and when it feels 
about blood heat I plant; that is generally on or 

142 



about the tenth day after the manure and soil are 
put in. 

It is really unnecessary for the amateur gardener 
to sow the hotbed sooner than six weeks before the 
end of frost time, for if it is sown earlier, the plants 
grow so spindling before they can be set out that 
they are really weakened in constitution and ruined 
in figure. I sow every flower seed (perennial as well 
as annual) I have room for, as I like to get ahead 
of the calendar as much as possible. I'm allowed 
only one-half of the bed for my flowers; the rest 
goes for sensible things like tomatoes, peppers, 
cauliflowers, cabbage and lettuce. 

On cold nights I throw an old piece of sailcloth 
over the frames for additional protection. A mar- 
ket gardener I know has made very fine comfortables 
for his seedbed out of old crocus sacks stuffed four 
inches thick with excelsior. His beds, however, need 
more protection than mine, for he must start his 
vegetable seed betimes in February or March. 

On warm, sunny days give the little plants an 
air bath; even on any kind of day it is well to put 
a small stone under one of the sashes for an hour's 
ventilation. After the days become quite gentle in 
late April it is still a wise precaution to put the 

143 



19* M*Ls * Mo&er CttfJen 

glass down and say good night to the baby plants at 
about 4 p. m. 

When the soil seems drying, sprinkle with luke- 
warm water, using the finest nozzle on watering pot ; 
keep soil loosened about seedlings, and w T eed every 
day. ( I know that sounds like brutal advice, for only 
natural born acrobats can, with comfort, perform 
weeding in a hotbed.) 

In the late autumn when we dig the celery we 
leave a lot of soil on the roots and replant, thick 
as sardines, in the hotbed. The plants never wilt 
and if they know they have been moved they don't 
let on. The rest of the celery is put out in the 
garden in a deep grave, covered with boards and 
soil. The celery in the hotbed keeps us supplied up 
to the end of December, when we spade all the old 
soil and manure out of the bed and pile it to one 
side, leaving the hotbed clean and ready for early 
spring operations. The sashes are merely hooked 
to toolhouse and centre stake, and there they remain 
perfectly safe all winter — much safer than if we 
ran the chance of breaking them by removal to in- 
terior of toolhouse. 

The pile of last year's discarded richness is per- 
fect to use for roses or any other flowers, so each 

144 



spring the manure and compost remnants of last 
year's hotbed may be made over into glowing blos- 
som-garments of lavender, pink, blue and gold. 

Transplanting 

I have bragged once before in print about my 
success in transplanting, but hoping you were lucky 
enough not to have read it, I'll say it all over: I 
have yet to lose a plant because of transplanting ! 

The majority of gardeners set out plants immedi- 
ately after a rain when the ground is quite wet. 
This is probably a nice habit for lazy people who 
don't want to lug the watering pot around. Dur- 
ing a lazy spell I tried it myself, and had hard work 
to save my plants. Many authorities advise " trans- 
planting just before a rain." Unfortunately I have 
never personally known any wizards who could pre- 
dict with a certainty when it is going to rain. Even 
the weather bureau's guessing is seldom corroborated 
by showers on time. So this fine advice has been 
useless to me. 

I always transplant on dry days after the sun 
has gone down. When the hole is dug the full depth 
of the plant's root length, I place the plant in hole, 
fill hole half full of water, throwing in dirt to make a 

145 



soft mud about the roots, then the upper half of 
hole is filled with perfectly dry soil. The plant does 
not wilt at all, and that is owing to the fact that 
there is no moisture on the surface of ground for 
the sun to bake or steam. There is no interruption 
in the growth as the moisture about the roots evap- 
orates so slowly. This first watering is the only one 
the plant ever gets. 

When transplanting shrubs or trees it is well to 
tie a little piece of tape on the southern side of the 
plant before removing it, then when replanting, place 
it in the same relation it formerly had to the sun. 
If you forget the tape you can generally tell the 
relation it held with the compass by its leaves — 
the leaf face is turned to the south, the back to the 
north. After proceeding as I've already told, when 
the hole is entirely filled about the tree or shrub, 
raise a circular ridge about the stem, forming a 
basin to catch the first rain which falls. 

If ants proceed to build their " castles in Spain " 
about the trunk of a transplanted tree, try mixing 
Paris green with sugar and sprinkle it mercilessly 
about their turrets. There is a time to be kind and 
a time to kill. I'm not a murderer by nature and 
I'm generally tender-hearted toward all humble 

146 




WE TRANSPLANT OUR SHIRLEY POPPIES AND THEREBY 
HAVE THEM JUST WHERE WE WANT THEM 



things as long as they behave humbly. I once 
almost bought a two-dollar book on " The Wonder- 
ful Ants," but I've suffered so much at their hands 
and I've had such ample opportunity to study their 
wonders, and I've been so licked to a standstill by 
them, that I could now write a $4.98 book myself on 
" Ants' Strategy in Warfare." 



147 



ine Itfsvnsient Ed 




e IrtsMisien 



SEd 



en 



QJUPPOSE you are by nature a home-making 
*~* genius but by some strange whimsy of fate you 
are exiled for a time in a breakfast-food-box, made- 
for-discoinfort house, or doing spiritual penance in 
a furnished home of somebody else's, or sta}ung for 
the season in a country place ; suppose any antithesis 
of a permanent abiding place; why not add one 
touch of reality by a small garden of flowers? 

Don't be like two migratory birds I once knew, 
possessed by a perpetual spirit of unrest; seeking 
ever the perfect condition in a delightfully imperfect 
world, they shuffled from one desolate place to an- 
other. They " weren't going to stay there long," 
what was the use of making any improvements? So 
these two malcontents existed in one Sahara after 
another, seeing no beauty, making no beauty, leav- 
ing no legacy of beauty behind. 

151 



They once read a nature book by mistake, and in 
an obsession of temporary enthusiasm purchased a 
farm. They planted one field of corn, and the man 
was so discouraged because unhoed weeds won the 
battle in the survival of the stronger that he never 
planted another rod. 

He fretted hour after hour over weeds; weeds 
choked his very thoughts. One day in desperation 
he exclaimed : " I'd give half of all I own to any- 
body who'd tell me how to get rid of weeds." 

" I know the solution," I replied, modestly making 
a bid for half his kingdom. " Asphalt your whole 
blame farm." 

But to return to our transient garden; because of 
its very nature we must perforce select seed which 
will develop quickly and give almost gratuitous re- 
turns for casual trouble. Then, too, I presume we 
shall have but a small piece of ground, so we must 
concentrate as much as possible. 

Naturally the choice of flowers must be made from 
annuals. Our first desire in a transient home is for 
cheer, so we'll plan our " sunshine bed " where it 
can be seen from the dining or living room windows. 
All along the back of this bed plant double sun- 
flowers ; about a foot in front of these sow the 

152 



largest varieties of lemon and orange colored mari- 
golds ; in front of these calliopsis, then yellow Cali- 
fornia poppies (Eschscholzia), bordering the entire 
bed with dwarf marigolds. I would sow broadcast 
both calliopsis and California poppies. 

Next we will compose a symphony in blue; be- 
ginning at the rear sow giant larkspurs, then broad- 
cast Kaiser-blumen (cornflowers), and border the en- 
tire mass with dwarf blue ageratum. I once planned 
a little blue garden like this for a very little girl, and 
she called it her " fairyland." 

Now that we've planned flowers for day beauty, 
blossoms which reflect both sunlight and sky, we 
must arrange another bed which we will call our 
night garden. 

Here sow great masses of nicotiana affinis, then in 
front broadcast with candytuft, using sweet alyssum 
for the border. 

Everyone loves hedges; we associate them with old 
gardens and long loved homes, yet the very thought 
of a hedge seems intimidating, as we naturally think 
of the years of continuous growth they generally 
represent. 

However, even in our transient home we may have 
imitation hedges ; they will not be as high as our 

153 



I9's FUoe * Mo&er (S^rJen 

heads, but they will help, more than anything else, to 
give a visual delusion of permanency. 

Take some path which you traverse daily and sow 
a line on each side with Kochia Trihophylla or Sum- 
mer Cypress. This will make a hedge about two and 
a half feet high of the most exquisite green, filmy 
foliage, which changes to a ruddy glow as the sum- 
mer wanes and the seeds appear. 

Another hedge which I plant each summer is made 
from the old-fashioned four-o' clocks. Get mixed 
seed, and have a quaint patch-quilt effect of varie- 
gated colors. The fragrance of the blossoms will 
make every evening and early morning walk down the 
path a delight. 

If the porch is full of glare and devoid of vines, 
so long as we can't all be Jack and have his beanstalk, 
we must get the best substitute obtainable for miracu- 
lous results. 

Coboea scandens is a vine of phenomenal qualities, 
growing twenty feet in a season. It has beautiful 
foliage and bell-like flowers of a weird blue-green. 

In transient homes there are sure to be eyesores, 
ugly, ill-kept spots which we will want to hide from 
our own eyes and the knowledge of others. Morning 
glories and nasturtiums will rapidly respond to our 

154 




AN ANNUAL HOLLYHOCK 



IS's Male t> Mo^r <&*rJen 

call for help and under draperies of loveliness dis- 
guise the secrets of sordidness. 

Of course the ground must be put in condition if 
good and quick results are to be obtained. Unless 
it is hopelessly hard soil, even if you are a woman 
there is no reason why you can't enjoy the prepara- 
tion of the ground yourself, using one of those claw 
forks or potato diggers. 

Beg, buy or steal some old manure and work in 
well, leaving the beds to mellow for a few days, then 
rake and sow. All seed should be planted shallow ex- 
cept the sunflowers and nasturtiums, which you press 
into the ground with your finger. The smallest seed 
just sprinkle on top of the soil, then take a few hand- 
fuls of earth and dust over them. 

After everything is planted get a board, put it 
down and tramp back and forth over the seed, press- 
ing them firmly into the earth; this insures quick 
germination and keeps the seed in place. 

The entire monetary cost of effecting a transfor- 
mation from barrenness to beauty in this temporary 
home will be one dollar and twenty-five cents — fifty 
cents for the yellow bed, twenty-five for the blue, fif- 
teen for the white, fifteen for the hedges and twenty 
for the vines. 

155 



Blossoms which we buy from the florist's shop and 
bring home half blown, to quickly wilt, satisfy but 
poorly a flower-yearning heart. Bought flowers are 
never really ours, they are extraneous things without 
one touch of personality. The poorest little stunted 
blossom, the seed of which we ourselves sow, weed and 
watch from day to day becomes a part of our lives 
and dreams, and is worth more spiritually than a 
dozen American Beauties purchased at a bull market 
price. 

If you happen to be some rare variety of altruist 
who not only wishes to paint the landscape of your 
temporary home with beauty, but would strew the 
path of your successor with welcoming posies, per- 
haps you will add a few abiding perennials to the list 
I have suggested. 

But even with the garden you now plant, the flow- 
ers will sow their own seed sufficiently to carry a post- 
script of loveliness to the stranger who follows you. 
Although it takes a peculiar selflessness to think hap- 
pily of another's enjoyment of the thing we have lost, 
wouldn't anyone be glad if it could be said of her, as 
someone said of Ellen Terry, " Wherever she passed, 
flowers grew "? 



156 



V_^£5Jraen lurWure 




are 



TN the early spring we are too busy planning, plant- 
•*■ ing, dreaming and digging to ever think of sit- 
ting down, but when our plans have reached fruition 
and the garden is full of bloom, then the mind takes 
on a contemplative turn and there is an ever growing 
tendency to happy inaction. It is well to provide for 
this stage by having garden seats placed at spots 
commanding the prettiest vistas ; then one is saved 
the danger of rheumatism by squatting Orientally on 
damp grass. 

It is amazing what poor provision the stores have 
made for the gardener's rest and enjoyment. The 
inexplicable, popular u rustic " benches are inquisi- 
tional in their uncomfortableness. The only other 
choice are the slatted affairs always painted a fiery 
red, which kills any color scheme of flowers. 

159 



After much futile searching for ready-made 
benches we were forced to the conclusion that we 
would have to design our own. 

The handy man and general genius of the village 
was sought to materialize our sketches. Good clear 
pine with no knots was chosen for the wood; the end 
supports had to be milled at a planing mill. Two of 
the seats were planned along Dutch lines, and these 
had an under bar for extra support, locked on out- 
side by square wooden pins. The other two benches 
are of an Italian character and are without under bar, 
but have extra braces under the seat nailed to end 
supports. The Dutch benches were stained a soft 
neutral green, for these seats were to be placed among 
the pines and cedars. 

The Italian benches were painted white, as they 
were to reside respectively at head of rose garden and 
moon garden. After remaining outdoors in every 
vicissitude of all-year-round weather they have not 
cracked nor shown any deterioration, only needing a 
fresh coat of stain and paint each spring for general 
looks and preservation. They are five feet long, six- 
teen inches high, and fifteen inches wide. 

The entire cost of the four benches was as fol- 
lows : 

160 




A BENCH ALONG DUTCH LINES 



Lumber and milling $ 6.02 

Rail for under support of two benches , .35 

Green stain, paint, oil and dryer. 40 

Labor, making and painting . 4.50 

$11.27 

Thus for less than twelve dollars we have benches 
which are as solid as the trees themselves and far 
more decorative than any to be had ready-made at 
exorbitant prices. 

Our venture in seats having turned out so satisfac- 
torily, we next planned arches and rose trellises. The 
rounded arch, while beautiful, we decided against on 
account of its expense. Perhaps I plagiarized a bit 
from the Japanese; at any rate the design suggests 
their simple methods. 

The photograph will give their form; the wide lat- 
tice is composed of common laths smoothed by the 
plane. The legs or stilts extending below arches 
should be eighteen inches long to give firm root in the 
ground, and they must be coated liberally with coal 
tar to prevent rotting. 

Of course in placing the arches it is necessary to 
employ a carpenter's level to get them perfectly 
plumb. 

161 



19* Male * Mo&er <£t*4n 

When it came to painting the arches we pendu> 
lumed between green and white, then settled at last on 
a compromise between the two ; we desired a color 
which would be starred at night yet not be glaring 
during the day, and one that would harmonize with 
white, pink, yellow and red roses ; so we selected a 
soft gray green, exactly the shade of the poplar tree 
trunk, a color that sank into the landscape, yet 
gleamed in the moonlight. 

In designing the fan trellises, a sudden exuberance 
of feeling caused my pencil to make an extra flourish 
and the accident produced such a happy effect I 
hailed it as the permanent. Consequently instead of 
a conventional fan shape of equal proportions, our 
fans have an almost vertical effect on one side and 
curve almost to the ground on the other. These were 
painted the same tone as the arches. 

The cost of arches and trellises was as follows : 

Material for 3 arches $ 2.85 

Material for 4 trellises ,. . 2.66 

Setting and painting 7.45 

$12.96 

162 



12's MfJflC *» Mo&er <£WJen 

The birds are the natural orchestra of the garden, 
and the members of the orchestra like to bathe and 
drink just like all other musicians ; so we next planned 
a little bowl to be kept filled with very fresh water. 

A wooden chopping bowl of largest proportions 
was procured; three squat legs were then fitted to 
the curved bottom, and nailed firmly ; then the entire 
thing was treated to several coats of gray-green paint, 
giving each coat plenty of time to dry. A last coat 
was applied and while still wet some very fine sand 
was sprinkled over the surface of the entire bowl, 
which suddenly transformed the wood into an ap- 
pearance of stone. When finished it was beautiful, 
and as queer and ancient looking as if we had acci- 
dentally discovered it in Egypt. The entire cost of 
this bathing and drinking bowl was seventy-five 
cents ! 

A flat round stone was then placed in the centre 
on which the birds could stand. Pouring the water 
so as to leave top of stone exposed, we retired to the 
studio to see who would be its first patron. In less 
than fifteen minutes here came the curious catbird, 
mewing excitedly; he made several swoops toward it, 
not being thoroughly convinced of its safety, then 
suddenly lighted on the centre stone and drank and 

163 



Let's HfcLe ^ Ho^er V^^raen 

delightedly performed his bath. Having set the 
stamp of his approval on the public bath, the other 
birds accepted it without question. 

It affords us constant amusement to watch the 
antics of the various bathers ; mother birds fre- 
quently bring their little broods which with nervous 
timidity of quivering wing dare not brave the terrors 
of the sea, until emboldened by watching their 
mother's ablutions. 

About the drinking bowl we daily throw handfuls 
of chicken feed and old bread to add to its allure- 
ments. In winter we keep the spot popular, after 
the bowl has been retired to the cellar, by hanging 
many pieces of suet on strings to the boughs of the 
apple tree which shades the bowl in summer. The 
suet is for the especial cheer of the chickadees, who 
blithely hang upside down, feasting, swinging and 
singing between mouthfuls in the wintry gusts of 
wind. 



164 



iKe Garden of LsWb 




f Lstn^ 



/^VNE of the greatest compensations of gardening 
^-^ is the sense of partnership which grows between 
the birds and ourselves. We do not grow visible 
wings, but if we have the inner sense of them, the 
birds will recognize us as kindred. 

Greater than riches, more precious than fame is 
the trust of one wild bird. 

I feel sure the creatures of wing have a great ap- 
preciation of beauty, and if you surround your home 
with color and perfume and trees you may count on 
the presence of birds. 

And if you are watchful of eye and open of heart, 
and have a true longing for their friendship, you will 
find each year adding to your knowledge of allure- 
ments to bring them in ever greater number. 

If you can make your garden a beautiful spot for 
their love, a safe sanctuary for their domestic life, 

167 



IS's fLLe * Mo&er <&*rJeii 

and a larder for their appetite, they will spread the 
news far and wide, and your fame will soar through 
the skies. 

Of course most of the valuable knowledge a gar- 
dener accumulates comes by the great law of accident. 
I've learned to value the apple, cherry, peach and 
pear trees not for their fruit alone. They lure to the 
garden birds I would never otherwise see, small jewel- 
like creatures who appear during blossom time and 
are as fleeting as the blossoms, disappearing into the 
infinite as the petals are blown earthward. 

On one thirteenth of May, when the air was so 
thronging with birds that I did not have time to lunch 
at all, I sat at a window which looked out on two 
fruit trees and counted thirty-three different kinds 
of birds. And of this number eleven were the will- 
o'-the-wisps of blossom time, flitting into my life and 
out again — only flashes of cerulean, gold and green, 
but painting indelibly the tapestry of memory with 
their magical hues. 

Then, too, the fruit trees insure us the company 
of that feathered embodiment of spring, the oriole. 
All through May his fife will startle the most sluggish 
thought from the commonplace to a sudden realiza- 
tion of the festival season. He gilds the air in his 

168 



quick swoops, darting like thought. If we are for- 
tunate in winning his favor during the period of love- 
making we may behold him swinging a bassinet in 
our pear tree to hold his downy souvenirs of blossom 
time. 

Most gardeners grow to be such delightful idiots 
they are glad to share their fruit with the birds, and 
the right sort of garden should have enough of every- 
thing to feed both the family indoors and the family 
outside. 

Still, if we have an indisposition to such generos- 
ity, we can divert the birds from the forbidden fruit 
by planting many mulberry trees, the fruit of which 
they generally prefer to all others. 

We all know the fascination of the drone of the 
bees in the flowering fruit trees. We can prolong 
this hypnotic music from May until late autumn by 
planting many Shirley poppies. 

The Kansas gayfeather is not a very beautiful 
flower in itself, but a gardener learns to love it be- 
cause the butterflies do. 

I have always adored the Kaiser-blumen cornflow- 
ers for their silver-green foliage, and flowers of tight 
laced bodice with ruff of blue silk. A great mass of 
them, when rippled by the breeze, makes one think of 

169 



EU M*Le * flower (S^rJen 

the sea. But I love them now for a finer reason, 
which dates from the ripening of the seed of the 
earlier flowers. With the first seed came the gold- 
finches, who darted and poised on the blue-tipped 
cernuous branches, chirping and feasting while they 
unconsciously made part of a poem of blue, green, 
gold and black. 

I bordered all my rose garden with old-fashioned 
Scotch pinks, because my mother's garden had them, 
and because their leaf tone harmonizes with every 
rose color. But they have become glorified since I've 
found their lover to be the ruby-throated humming 
bird. He also loves the nasturtiums which garland 
the porch, and the morning glories which cover the 
trunk of a tall dead cedar ; but if I really want to have 
a long opportunity for studying this miracle of 
beauty and motion, I take a small stool and sit for an 
hour half hidden among the pinks. 

One of the most ecstatic, breathless moments of 
my life was when a humming bird sat to rest on a 
rose branch within two inches of my hand. 

The cedars bring cheer to the garden in winter 
and they add mystery at night ; then when their blue 
berries ripen they may bring us an unexpected visit 

170 



EH ]°Ucc * Eloper Ct^Jen 

from that most exquisite of wanderers, the Bohemian 
wax wing. 

When we left a great row of elderberry bushes 
along the back of our garden we did so because they 
reminded us of hedgerows, and banks of old brooks 
where we once went a-fishing back in childhood's 
country. When the bushes were covered with great 
clusters of white flowers the garden was filled with 
memory-thrilling perfume. When the blossoms de- 
veloped into masses of dark jewels we planned to 
make wine, but we changed our minds when we found 
the fruit attracted every catbird and robin in the 
countryside. 

The sunflowers planted for decorative purposes 
were appropriated by the buccaneer bumblebees, who 
wallowed about the flower centres until they emerged 
clothed in golden pollen. 

When the sunflower seed ripens it is an invitation 
to every chickadee, goldfinch and nuthatch for miles 
about. 

The most beautiful garden in the world would be 
utterty barren without birds, bees and butterflies. 

The butterflies and bees need little luring, but the 
birds confer their presence and fellowship with royal 

171 



12's fLLe fc Mo#er (Swden 

discrimination. After we have charmed them into 
our lives we must devise means of holding them, study 
their needs, never lessen their faith in us, keep a 
watchful eye for neighbors' cats, grow soft of foot, 
and sweeter of soul. 

And for our service and love, one hermit thrush 
alone can repay us a thousandfold by his celestial 
song in the hush of a twilight in June. 



172 



I ne O&rden in vvmti 



er — * 





I ne Ozorrclermn winter 



npHE friend who had spent some time with us dur- 
**• ing the summer when the garden was in its pop- 
pied, rosy heyday, writes to me when December 
snows arrive : " Now that winter is here I suppose 
your friends may expect to hear from you once in 
awhile as you will certainly be forced willy nilly to 
lay down your rake and hoe." 

It is the second of December when I quizzically 
smile over this letter and wonder if this city moth 
will believe me if I tell her I look forward to one of 
my busiest months in the garden; that there will not 
be a day's cessation of the labor and joy in the out- 
of-doors. This is a blessed provision of necessity 
for with the first brittle taste of December and the 
crisping of energy, the very frost in the nostrils 
whets the muscles to toil, and with every breath of 
the chilling air there is the message to hurry, to 

175 



Let H EWce <& Flower (SwJen 

achieve, before the ice bound days of January are 
upon us. 

So on this second of December I toss aside the 
grey artificially scented letter, and sally forth with 
my garden partner, arms laden with our precious 
horde of freshly arrived Japanese lilies, making our 
way toward Kingdom Come. Then from the cellar 
is fetched the great box of sand which we had care- 
fully stored away one warm, scarlet splashed autumn 
day, in expectation of this exciting December morn- 
ing. 

The few inches of snow are lifted with a spade and 
the earth proves to be frozen only a little over an 
inch! Holes twelve inches deep are dug, then the 
good old wheelbarrow is squeaked upon the scene 
laden with a rich compost of old manure and decayed 
sod and weeds. The holes are given two inches of 
compost in the bottom, then a heaping trowel of sand 
is thrown in to make a bed for the great, luscious 
auratum bulbs to lie in, with a counterpane of the 
same sand to cover them. We then fill the hole with 
the mingled compost and original soil. 

Leaves which we have prudently saved in gunny 
sacks for this purpose, are then piled over the hole, 
while over them moderately fresh manure is laid for 

176 



the triple purpose of holding the leaves in place, 
warmth and spring fertilization. 

We always have great difficulty to avoid coming 
to blows over the subject of depth in planting. 
Haven't you met the variety of gardener who would, 
if left to himself, always plant everything in the 
centre of the earth's axis if he could dig that deep? 
Well then, you know what I have to contend with, 
and what spirited discussions and stilted dignity 
occur before a compromise is reached. 

The larger auratum bulbs should be planted ten 
inches deep; the speciosum Melpomene and smaller 
lily bulbs about six inches. 

All told we plant twenty-six lilies among the 
peonies ; the latter will give the bulbs shade about the 
stalks in summer, conserving the moisture, while 
the foliage of the peonies will make leafy vases 
for the bouquets of lilies to rise from. 

With tired backs but gleeful hearts we trudge 
toward the house, and on the way I stoop and brush 
the snow from a border, finding a quantity of very 
fresh sweet alyssum smiling happily under its glitter- 
ing cover. Across the path, in a nook under the white 
lilac, are several clumps of brave purple stocks look- 
ing like monster double violets. 

177 



The hardy chrysanthemums are reluctantly cut 
down, for they still display touches of yellow, red, 
pink and white in the centre, within the brownish 
edges of the frosted outer petals. The stalks are cut 
close to the new growth already courageously making 
haste for the next season. The plants are then 
mulched with leaves and manure. 

Between labors we sit on the garden bench under 
the pines where the chickadees come and sass us, 
while a redheaded woodpecker drums on the tree 
trunk above our heads. 

The green and white benches, as I've said before, 
are left out all winter, for why should we not enjoy a 
peaceful, comfortable hour in the out-of-doors when 
it is in its most beautiful white, winter stage? 

There are only three months in the year when I 
cannot gather flowers daily from the garden, and 
even during those months the garden is still magical 
in its loveliness because of its bitter-sweet vines 
gleaming with red berries, the scarlet fruited sumachs, 
evergreen cedars, pines and hemlocks. The white 
birch gains in spiritual beauty during its winter bare- 
ness when frail limbs make a tracery against sunset 
sky — the last note of poetic suggestion. The pop- 
lars (not Lombardy, but that variety having silver 

178 



IS's Male * Mo&er <&*rJen 

aspenlike leaves which quiver at the touch of summer 
wind) have a beauty scarce earthly when their pale 
jade trunks rise from the white surface of snow. 

The morning after a great icy rain we awaken to 
find the pines wearing a million diamonds, the birches 
shimmering in sunlight with every tint of the rain- 
bow. 

Then when the snow covers all the ground there 
are a thousand new beauties in things we accepted 
casually throughout summer. The white earth be- 
comes a canvas on which each crooked limb, humble 
weed, straggling vine, may paint a masterpiece in 
blue and purple shadow. 

A certain proportion of winter severity is a blessing 
to both gardener and garden. I have lived in south- 
ern and northern states, and the West Indies, and 
of course have made gardens wherever I lived; and 
I assure you, if your garden is situated in a cold 
clime you may feel well content, even if you can't 
have royal ponceanas, bougainvilleas, palms, camel- 
lias and gardenias growing out-of-doors, you may 
have three-fourths of all the loveliest flowers in the 
world. 

Where there is no winter freezing to partially kill 
the insects a gardener's battle is fearful. Ants, 

179 



sowbugs, wireworms, can, in the warmer climes, 
almost fret the soul to hopelessness. The flowers 
which are native in the tropics have a hardihood which 
can resist the insects and the heat ; it is true they keep 
a cycle of bloom the year round, but they are apt 
to be limited in number and consequently are repeated 
endlessly in all gardens, producing in a foreigner the 
sensation of living amid set stage scenes of undeni- 
able beauty, but a beauty which eventually palls on 
the mind to an unendurable degree. 

The great contrast of our snowy winters gives the 
eye a change and rest, and breeds a new zest for the 
next season's pageant of flowers. And how imper- 
ceptibly nature reintroduces us to color; the earliest 
spring flowers are all demure and modest in form and 
tint ; from the snowdrop and crocus we are led by 
scillas, hyacinths and narcissi to the bolder tones 
of the tulips. 

The winter severities weld our hearts closer to the 
creatures of the out-of-doors. There are the traces 
of Br'er Rabbit to be seen each morning after a snow. 
I always feel a thrill when I see the pathetic track of 
his hunted feet. I wish there were some way to con- 
vey a general invitation to his race to make their 
winter quarters in the safe refuge of our garden, 

180 




A BROOK BREAKING ICE 
BARRIERS IN SPRING 



IS's FLU * flower (grtJlen 

where many borders of Scotch pinks will feed them 
generously and save me trimming next spring. They 
can also make a midnight feast from the frozen apples 
and nibble the Brussels sprouts. 

On the twenty-fourth of December the Christmas 
tree is cut — always with a qualm, for it seems so 
cruel to end its life in the woods for a brief, gay 
existence indoors. 

We save enough sand from the lily planting to 
use for the Christmas tree. The trunk is placed in 
a bucket and the sand filled in about it, making the 
firmest, neatest and simplest arrangement possible. 

For the Christmas table decoration there is nothing 
prettier than cyclamen. No other flower will* stand 
the hardships of indoor winter life as well as this. 
It needs but little sun and will continue to bloom 
under the most vacillating conditions of heat and 
cold, light and darkness. 

It seems only fair, though, that between meals it 
should be given a chance at some bright window to 
enjoy a more natural existence. These plants can 
be raised from seed and in this way one may obtain 
a great variety and by having many plants let them 
take turn in brightening the dining table. 

With the first of January approaching we look 
181 



IS* FUce * lo&er (wJen 

forward to the arrival of the catalogues from seeds- 
men and rosarians, then the search for novelties 
begins, the glad renewal of acquaintance with beloved 
old flower friends, and the ever new delight in the 
never varying pictures. 

Then, although the gardening hands will perhaps 
be folded for a time, losing their freckles, tan and 
callous spots, the gardening brain is working harder 
than ever, planning the spring campaign of beauty ; 
dreaming at night of the fall planted bulbs ; forswear- 
ing during the day the dress planned for Easter, that 
one may purchase those marvelous azaleas which 
smile from the cover of a particularly enticing new 
catalogue. 

Soothe season merges from one dream to another, 
an endless circle of hope and work, always garlanded 
with "blossoms, which only bloom the more in the 
mind's eye when the trees bow earthward with snow 
and the plant children lie tucked in their white beds, 
perhaps dreaming as we dream of the great Spring 
Pantomime. 



182 



GWe of &e Gwilen DirHr 




f I lIIE winter care of the birds really begins during 
-*■ the summer before. For then it is that we plant 
great quantities of sunflowers, planting so many we 
may leave at least half the seed heads untouched for 
the autumn birds to help themselves to, the remainder 
being stored away in crates carefully protected from 
rats for the bird hard times in midwinter. 

There is also a large patch of peanuts planted for 
the chickadees and nuthatches. The chickadees 
eventually become so tame they permit us to offer 
them peanuts in the fingers, perching on the hand 
when nibbling. The peanuts (crushed) are daily 
spread on a shelf extending beyond the studio win- 
dow in full sight, where we may enjoy the merry 
feasting of the chickadees and the sly thief-like 
snatching of the hatches. 

During the autumn little bird hotels are erected in 
185 



Ek Mb * Mo&er <£WJen 

sheltered spots, in trees near the house, out of cat 
reach, for the universally and unjustly despised Eng- 
lish sparrows. We take ordinary wooden boxes and 
by adding partitions form various little apartments, 
for even sparrows like private rooms and, having 
once appropriated them, hold and defend their prop- 
erty against all intruders. 

After five years of intimacy and unprejudiced, 
careful investigation of the English sparrow, I have 
not found to be true one thing their detractors say. 
And they do not chase other birds away. 

I have attracted all the sparrows I can to my 
garden and I have more robins, j uncos, thrushes, 
catbirds, chickadees, nuthatches, hermit thrushes, 
Phoebes, orioles and song sparrows than can be found 
anywhere else within miles of the Wilderness. The 
sparrows live on terms of greatest amity with all 
the other birds — their quarrels being confined to 
their own family. 

And as for quarrelsomeness, the nearest approach 
to actual dueling I've ever witnessed was between two 
robins. For sheer peevishness and peckingness, none 
surpass the white-striped headed sparrows of high 
degree, while even the dear chickadee is remarkably 
quick of temper and snippety. 

186 



The poor English sparrow has been so persecuted 
and talked about he is very sensitive and espe- 
cially grateful for kindness, showing actual devotion 
to a human friend. When I go out under the apple 
trees and call, " Come on, little children, come on," 
they flock to me from all directions, fluttering about 
my head like tame pigeons. The morning after a 
snowstorm I find the embroidery of little feet all over 
the front porch up to the very door, where I suppose 
they would knock if they were stronger. There they 
sit or flutter about the bare vines, knowing they can 
count on us for food supplies during this stormy 
time. 

The sparrows suffer so much during the winter ; 
we always have a few cripples in our flock — poor 
birds who perhaps perched for the night on a bare 
bough and woke in the morning to find their feet 
frozen to the limb. 

For two winters we entertained a one-legged junco 
who, I'm sorry to say, was much persecuted by his 
kindred, but perhaps it was for some individual 
unpleasant trait that I didn't know about. He even- 
tually waited until dusk to come alone for his meal 
under the studio window, stumping about most piti- 
fully, using one wing as a sort of crutch. 

1ST 



The birds learn to look on us as protectors and it 
is a proud position to fill. I'd even rather be a bird 
protector than a policeman on Broadway. 

When we are awakened, before the workman's 
whistle, by a hullabaloo at our window, and rush out 
in nebulous garments just in time to save our spar- 
row colony from a hawk, it is indeed a proud moment. 

During last summer we noticed that the sparrows 
deserted the drinking bowl for days and kept 
raucously trying to tell us some scandal about it, 
but it was only by a chance glance out one evening 
that we discovered the trouble. It was a rat who 
sneaked out to the bowl from the cellar, stealing the 
bird bread and perhaps pouncing on sparrow orphans 
and widows. 

A small child's rifle aimed nervously and amateur- 
ishly fired, only served to wound the rat, and then 
there was a frolic. All the family rushed at the rat 
with various nice weapons, such as a chafing dish, 
brass poker and Samurai sword, and when the spar- 
rows saw their enemy wounded, and our efforts to 
slaughter him, they joined us with all fear departed, 
diving down between our weapons, getting in the way 
of blows, pecking the rat's back until somehow some- 
body — sparrows or we — killed the enemy. There 

188 





3*SH 


pi 




'"> ■' , 


fv 4 4 ^ 


H''' -iBBi^P 




".V 



tf go 

w fa 

G fa 



was a general festival and a grand funeral which all 
the birds attended. 

Of course, taking the responsibility for the birds 
can be carried too far, if the birds begin to shirk 
responsibility themselves and expect you to look after 
the children who desert the nest too soon, the parents 
demanding, " Where is -my wandering boy ? " every 
time you go into the garden, instead of feeding the 
little bawlers themselves. 

Then, too, it's a terrible responsibility to have to 
assist in the general pandemonium when an entire 
brood of post wrens fly the coop at once. 

There was " Spilly Willy," the post wren, and his 
little wife, " Tildy." He came to the back porch, 
then to the front porch, searching and begging for a 
home, having been unexpectedly accepted by Tildy 
the day before. We hurried and found a little 
stunted failure of a gourd that looked about the size 
of his necessity, broke a fine knife making a round 
door, and mashed a favorite finger nailing it up to 
the veranda post. Spilly Willy accepted it in three 
hours, and he and Tildy nearly killed themselves 
spilling over with song-joy while trying to fit four- 
inch twigs of wood cross-ways in an inch door hole. 
Then we found another gourd a size larger, with a 

189 



dried, crooked stem (which would make a beautiful 
balcori}'), and in this one we made two doors, front 
and back, and nailed it to another post in case Spilly 
Willy had a cousin or college chum who also wanted 
to go to hurried housekeeping. We had scarcely 
gotten it in place when Tildy — curiosity beset 
woman — flitted over to investigate the new house 
and went in the back door and out of the front door 
and sat on the balcony and went indoors again and 
squatted down to try its hatching qualities; and then 
out she came and called to Spilly Willy (who was 
still trying, manlike, to do an impossible mathe- 
matical problem with twigs) to come over and behold 
this model abode with all the modern improvements. 
After much feminine argument Tildy had her way, 
of course, and Spilly Willy reluctantly gave up the 
rustic cottage he'd set his heart on and began all 
over again the task of bringing twigs for the furnish- 
ing. I never saw such work as those two accom- 
plished in the next few days — and I never heard 
such rapturous singing as they kept up perpetually, 
perfect cataracts of music tumbling from their little 
throats. 

Then the laying started and poor Spilly Willy was 
190 



Let ^ FUJce «k M<y&er (£r^pdeti 

completely left out of it — didn't know what to do 
with himself, didn't even have a pipe to smoke — so 
he just sat on the balcony while Tildy laid the eggs 
as fast as she could, and sang his very heart out 
serenading and encouraging her. Spilly Willy no 
longer had the freedom of the home as he had when 
there was house furnishing to do ; Tildy treated him 
as if he were a bull in a china shop and wouldn't let 
him do more than peek in at the precious fragile 
eggs, so Spilly Willy, having no club to go to, formed 
a habit of going to the first gourd cottage, sitting 
contemplatively therein. 

Tildy sat and sat and sat, and Spilly Willy sang 
and sang and sang and brought all the delicacies to 
be found in the universe to his little wife, until at last 
the first son and heir emerged from his shell. 

After little Billee arrived, other little brothers and 
sisters appeared, until there were in all six hungry, 
cavernous mouths to feed. Tildy and Spilly Willy 
nearly worked themselves to feathers and bone pro- 
viding for that family, until I was afraid the world's 
store of grubs and spiders would be exhausted. And 
Tildy kept reminding him what a blessing it was they 
moved to the model house, for now she could go in 

191 



EH EUce * Mo&er <Sr*pJen 

at the back door and feed the children and out of the 
front, when he arrived at the back door with more 
food. 

Then came a day when Spilly Willy summoned me 
with piercing shrieks of alarm. I rushed out and 
sat long before I understood. Tildy, it seemed, had 
gone off as usual for a spider and, alack and alas, 
had not returned. There was no use to hunt — I 
didn't know where to go — I could only say all the 
comforting things I could think of and keep a vigil 
over the little flock while the disconsolate husband 
sought far. and near, coming back every now and 
again with food which he hastily and silently deliv- 
ered only to be off again, desperately calling in heart- 
breaking tones, through the Tild} T less distance. 

Toward the end of the third hour, what with his 
heartache and double duty of feeding the children, 
Spilly Willy was nigh dead, and I never saw a sadder 
thing than when he went over to their first little home 
and crawled inside, his back turned to the world, 
alone with his memories and his sorrow. 

We had both given up hope — I believed a cat 
had gotten her or she had become entangled in a 
wire fence — when suddenly a Niagara of song 
sounded near. 

192 



IS'* MaLc * Mo&er CarJen 

Spilly Willy sprang forth from his retreat as one 
electrified, and gave a cry of joyous relief that 
gripped my throat. It was Tildy in the flesh, Tildy 
safe, Tildy back home again to her lover and her 
brood ! She gave Spilly Willy one gleeful greeting 
and song of explanation, then sped within the back 
door to her crying children. 

Spilly sat on the balcony stem outside ; his vigil, 
his labor, his heartaches suddenly relieved, his little 
head drooped and nodded in the exhaustion of sleep. 

As the children grew older they would hang out 
the front and back doors squawking for food, and 
almost tumble out before their parents could bring 
it. This nearly frightened Tildy to death but I 
really believe Spilly Willy took pride in it, for one 
day while Tildy was off foraging he deliberately sat 
on the balcony and dared little Billee to come clean 
out. Billee did and so did Sally and Tildy, Jr., and 
Beatrice and Harold and little Pearl — all six just 
fluttered, fell and spilled out front and back doors 
and made off for inaccessible foreign parts. 

Then Tildy returned and was flabbergasted; she 
accused Spilly Willy; he denied it and I didn't tell 
on him. There was pandemonium, wifely shrieks 
and flutterings, then all of a sudden both laid all the 

193 



IS's Make *> ilo^r (wJen 

blame on me, and I was made to understand that as 
long as I was responsible for the breaking up of their 
home it was up to me to search for the children. 

Of course, they had gotten under our porch and 
neighboring porches, down cellar and in every other 
difficult place, where I bumped my head and nearly 
skinned my back reaching them, only to have the 
wretched little things flutter farther away. After an 
hour's ceaseless pursuit I eventually landed the entire 
six babies, placed them unhurt on the boughs of a 
sumach, and delivered myself of an oration to the 
parents, in which I forthwith washed my hands of the 
entire business. 



194 



WIi^ /Ay Garden 7^\e?vn5 
<of\e 




<of\e 

fTlHE greatest gift of a garden is the restoration 
■"- of the five senses. 

During the first year in the country I noticed but 
few birds, the second year I saw a few more, but by 
the fourth year the air, the tree tops, the thickets and 
ground seemed teeming with bird life. " Where did 
they all suddenly come from? " I asked myself. The 
birds had always been there, but I hadn't the power 
to see ; I had been made purblind by the city and 
only gradually regained my power of sight. 

My ears, deafened by the ceaseless whir and din 
of commerce, had lost the keenness which catches 
the nuances of bird melody, and it was long before 
I was aware of distinguishing the varying tones that 
afterward meant joy, sorrow, loss or love, to me. 
That hearing has now become so keen, there is no 
bond of sleep so strong that the note of a strange 

197 



bird will not pierce to the unsleeping, subconscious 
ear and arouse me instantly to alertness in every fibre 
of my being. I wonder if even death will make me 
insensate to the first chirp of a vanguard robin in 
March. 

During that half -awake first year of country life 
I was walking with a nature-wise man and as we 
passed by a field where the cut hay lay wilting, he 
whiffed and said, " There's a good deal of rag weed 
in that hay." I gazed on him with the admiration 
I've saved all my life for wizards and wondered what 
peculiar brand of nose he had. 

Then the heart, the poor jaded heart, that must 
etherize itself to endure the grimness of city life at 
all, how subtly it begins throbbing again in unison 
with the great symphony of the natural. The awak- 
ened heart can sense spring in the air when there is no 
visible suggestion in calendar or frosted earth, and 
knowing the songful secret, the heart can cause the 
feet to dance through a day that would only mean 
winter to an urbanite. 

The sense of taste can only be restored by a con- 
stant diet of unwilted vegetables and freshly picked 
fruit. 

The delicacy of touch comes back gradually by 
198 



IS's PLLe is Mo&er (SwJen 

tending injured birdlings, by the handling of fragile 
infant plants, and by the acquaintance with different 
leaf textures, which finally makes one able to distin- 
guish a plant, even in the dark, by its Irish tweed, 
silken or fur finish. 

And the foot, how intangibly it becomes sensi- 
tized; how instinctively it avoids a plant even when 
the eye is busy elsewhere. On the darkest night I 
can traverse the rocky ravine, the thickets, the sinu- 
ous paths through overgrown patches, and never 
stumble, scratch myself or crush a leaf. My foot 
knows every unevenness of each individual bit of 
garden, and adjusts itself lovingly without conscious 
thought of brain. 

To the ears that have learned to catch the first 
tentative lute of a marsh frog in spring, orchestras 
are no longer necessary. To the eyes that have 
regained their sight, more wonder lies in the crafts- 
manship of a tiny leaf-form of inconsequential weed, 
than is to be found in a bombastic arras. To the 
resuscitated nose is revealed the illimitable secrets of 
earth incense, the whole gamut of flower perfume, 
and other fragrant odors too intangible to be classed, 
odors which wing the spirit to realms our bodies are 
as yet too clumsy to inhabit. 

199 



EH MoLc * lo&er (SwJen 

To the awakened mind there is nothing so lowly 
in the things below and above ground but can com- 
mand respect and study. Darwin spent only thirty 
years on the study of the humble earthworm. 

To get the greatest good from a garden we should 
not undertake more than we can personally take care 
of. I have not had a gardener since the first year 
when outside help was necessary for the translation 
of the sumach and briar patches of our Wilderness 
into arable land. A gardener is only helpful for the 
preliminary work of spading, after that his very 
presence is a profanation. 

Garden making is creative work, just as much as 
painting or writing a poem. It is a personal ex- 
pression of self, an individual conception of beauty. 
I should as soon think of asking a secretary to 
write my book, or the cook to assist in a water 
color painting, as to permit a gardener to plant 
or dig among my .flowers. For in even the most 
unimportant parts of my garden are little secret 
treasures — a stray cornflower that a Bedouin wind 
lured from its home bed; a shy wild violet that 
strayed from the woods, being tired of blushing 
unseen ; a bloodroot which must have been brought 
some night by a fairy; where is the gardener whose 

200 



eye and heart have been trained to respect these 
chance visitors? 

The ancients had a delightful way of commemo- 
rating events and people by marble and other endur- 
ing things. I can see why we should hesitate to 
borrow from friends, but I don't see why we should 
not borrow from dead Greeks ; therefore I've made 
my garden largely commemorative and memorial. 

For instance, there's that hedge on the north 
boundary; it's true we needed a wind-break there, 
but it was much sweeter to forget necessity and let 
its planting become an epic ; therefore, after one 
especially delightful honeymoon (we have them an- 
nually and sometimes accidentally) we came home with 
the new enthusiasm bred of a short absence from 
home, and set out ninety-something hemlocks and 
called it " The Honeymoon Hedge." 

Then there is the terrace planned in honor of the 
advent of two dearly loved friends who had a weak- 
ness for breakfasting outdoors. I made my garden 
partner haul stones for days like an Italian laborer, 
and we both behaved like ground moles tunnelling 
out earth for many other days ; and then a great 
christening rain descended prematurely and we only 
achieved a mud hole in a stone quarry by the time 

201 



EH Mate * lUrer (S^rJen 

the friends arrived. But they had the prophetic 
eyes of poets, and when shod with galoshes they 
plowed through the mud of their future terraee and 
could imagine all the beauty we had intended; they 
almost wept with gratitude and were perfectly docile 
about breakfasting indoors ! 

The terrace was eventually finished. I ought to 
know because I laid thirty feet of stone wall (which 
I find out by the dictionary should be called a 
" Ha-Ha," though I never suspected it had such a 
mirthful name at that skinned thumb time) ; and we 
planted it with hundreds of tulips, thousands of 
hyacinths, a million crocuses, a trillion grass seed 
and six Dorothy Perkins. The next year when the 
dear friends came again, the terrace was too beautiful 
to breakfast upon ; they could only stand at a respect- 
ful distance, with bared heads, while it was formally 
dedicated. 

There also is the rose-garden annex surprise, 
planned for the aforesaid partner's birthday, he 
being prohibited for days from taking his " consti- 
tutional " in that portion of our realm. When the 
first of June arrived there stood — well, I won't say 
exactly the number, but if I had been a prosaic 
person I would have purchased just the same number 

202 




THE GUARDIAN OF THE GARDEN 



1SH MaU » Mo&er (S^Jen 

of candles to stick in a short-lived birthday cake, as 
I planted roses in the abiding chocolate cake of the 
ground. 

Of course every true gardener saves his own seed, 
thereby gradually bringing all the different varieties 
to greater perfection ; incidentally he may name these 
self -developed brands after otherwise unfamed friends. 

Whenever there is a particularly eccentric or 
beautiful color shown in a blossom I tie a tape about 
it, and write its praise on the tape, so when the seed 
is harvested a fickle memory need not be relied upon. 
By saving each year the very darkest hollyhock of 
the blackish variety, I finally achieved the actually 
black flowers and had a chance to evidence my admi- 
ration of a certain friend's hair (not her character) 
by bestowing her name on the hollyhock. 

If a man has an extravagant wife who cannot 
resist Irish lace robes when displayed on a lay-lady 
in a department store window, he should just gently 
lead her to the country, present her with two acres 
of ground, or one and a half, introduce her to flower 
catalogues and teach her to dig. She'll soon forget 
even manicurists. It's the simplest general cure I 
know for all feminine weaknesses. 

No woman once demoralized into a gardener ever 



hesitated when confronted with a choice between a 
new gown and — well, say the same amount spent 
in peonies, peach trees, roses and rhubarb plants. 
No wonder the first woman gardener could only 
afford the fig leaf; all her clothes money went for 
anemones and more apple trees. 

One can only measure change by retrospection; 
when a backward glance produces a finer content 
with one's present state, then surely the spirit is not 
retrograding. I'm sure I'm a reconstructed being 
in more ways than one since I moved to the country, 
especially in my attitude toward vegetables. Dur- 
ing the first year I ignored the " sass patch," treated 
it as a snob does the real toilers of this world. But 
gradually lured by the sheer beauty of bejeweled- 
by-dew cabbage, the fragance of the onion, I now 
expend as much muscle on the vegetable kingdom 
as I do on my roses, and, incidentally, I have become 
a vegetarian. That's the only way to become one — 
just because there are so many good vegetables, one 
doesn't need to encourage the slaughter of beasts. 

And this kind of vegetarian, the accidental kind, 
is not afflicted with anaemia; it is only the theories 
of the professional vegetarian that makes him look 
so bloodless. 

204 



IS'* M*Le * IotSW <S*rJen 

Once when we were without a maid, and very busy 
in the studio, we didn't have time to prepare course 
dinners, so we chucked thirteen different kinds of 
vegetables in a big aluminum preserving kettle and 
went off about our business of being great. After 
several hours we came to, and remembering the pot 
a-boiling, gave a yell of dismay ; we were so sure it 
was burnt I think we had no time to use the stairs — - 
the banisters were more expedite. 

Now if that pot had contained a chicken it would 
have gone to glory; but lo and behold! there were 
our faithful vegetables philosophically stewing away, 
sending forth a fragrance that was like a patch quilt 
of odors. And when we sat down to sample the 
thirteen courses compressed into one we found a dish 
delectable enough to make Lucullus and Sulla resur- 
rect before their time. 

Of course we had so much left over, after we'd 
gorged ourselves, the next day was provided for 
too; and by merely adding a preponderance of 
tomato, the stew was metamorphosed on Tuesday 
(we'll say it was Monday when this kitchen vaudeville 
began), so on Tuesday the meal was quite different. 
On Wednesday, by the addition of much cabbage 
and little disks of bacon, still another culinary 

205 



IS* MJce * Mater <Wt!en 

enigma was achieved. On Thursday a heavy hand 
with celery made a new avatar of the dish. On Fri- 
day carrots recklessly donated caused a strange 
masquerade of flavor. On Saturday cauliflower gave 
the departing a reprieve. And on Sunday we held 
a wake over all the ghosts of thirteen vanishing vege- 
tables. 

The gardener is an explorer, an experimentalist, 
an idealist, and best of all he becomes inevitably a 
humanitarian. If he is an artist, he can satisfy all 
the cravings of his soul for color and pictures ; if 
a musician he can find expression for all the harmony 
in his being. Music, painting and gardening are 
based on the same laws of color, harmony, compo- 
sition. 

Take if you will a long path that is bordered by 
hollyhocks on each side, ranging from white through 
pink, lilac, salmon, red, yellow, climaxing with black ; 
the path leads curvingly, luringly to a point of ex- 
ceeding loveliness, an open vista commanding a gen- 
eral view of the garden, and the distant hills and 
countryside. Who will say that it. is not like the 
gradual crescendo of a passage of music developing 
through tones of ever increasing richness to the final 
magnificent chord? 

206 



A gardener lives in the present and future; if he 
has a sad past, he forgets it. 

A garden is ageless and the gardener becomes age- 
less too, as ageless as the wind, the rain, the sun, 
summer and winter, for he becomes one with them 
all. 

I believe no living creature could remain bad if 
associated daily with flowers, for flowers have such 
an Irish way of seducing, with the blarney of 
beauty, to the simple, real and only abiding things 
of life. 

Finding contentment, the gardener exhales it. 

Tucked away in a dim corner of the curiosity shop 
of my brain is a fragment heard, read or dreamed 
some time in the nebulous past; it runs: 

" A weary traveler was passing along and noticed 
in his path a dry, shriveled leaf. Picking it up, he 
was amazed at the perfume it exhaled. ' Oh ! thou 
poor withered leaf, whence comest this exquisite 
perfume? ' 

" The leaf replied : ' I have lain for a time in the 
company of a rose. ' " 

Once a gardener, always a gardener; there is no 
happier creature than the soil and flower lover. 

207 



tQ's Male * Mo^er &*den 

Make friends with the shy things of the woods, the 
winged creatures of air, the sun and the rain, and 
there is no poverty that can reach you, no world 
weariness which will not be effaced. The birds bring 
their sorrows to you and you forget your own ; they 
bring you their joy and brim your heart with song. 

The flowers know you for their sweetheart, the 
bees buzz fraternally about you, even the wasps let 
you share the secrets of their households, saving 
their stings for their enemies. 

The twilight restores all your childhood's dreams, 
the moon gilds your present hopes, and the seasons 
take you by the hand, leading so gently along the 
pathway of the years that there is no age to fear, 
only a vista opening ever wider to the clearer eye, 
the keener ear, the vibrant heart. 



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